Fate Revenant Sword
by James D. Fawkes
Summary: Angra Mainyu wants to be born. But the Fifth War is over, and Shirou has rejected the Grail. With the Grail System destined for dismantlement, no path to birth remains in the future. So what better solution than to send the winner back to the beginning and give him a second chance to fail? "I am Servant Saber. I ask of you: Are you my Master?" SaberXShirou "Avalon" shipping
1. Reunion

_"Not even death can stop Fate."_

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter I: Reunion  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

The sun rose behind her and he was forced for a moment to close his eyes against the light, and when he opened them again, she was gone. The wind blew about, and even the grass that had bent around her feet, the last visible sign that she had ever been there, straightened back to its natural shape.

For all intents and purposes, Servant Saber had never even existed.

He could not help the bittersweet smile that curled his lips. She was gone, then, well and truly gone. She wasn't coming back.

"That's just like you."

Something in his heart thrummed painfully.

It had been difficult to make the decision, difficult to decide to let her go when he wanted so desperately for her to stay. He'd just found her, the one woman who completed him and who felt so familiar that he could have known her his whole life, and just like that, she was gone.

It wasn't fair.

It wasn't fair that the one time he wanted to be selfish, he couldn't. She couldn't stay, no matter how much he wished it were so, and he couldn't follow her back. She belonged to that time, and he belonged in this one. Two souls, stretching across eternity, touching so briefly, and then separated.

It hurt.

It hurt so badly that he wouldn't have been surprised to look down and see his heart had been torn from his chest. It hurt so badly that Lancer's spear hadn't been nearly so bad. It was a cursed wound that bled and bled and didn't stop. It would heal, he knew, with time, but it would still bleed. It would bleed for the rest of his life, until the day he could look her in the eyes again and see her smile.

But there were other things to worry about now, like Illya and Rin. Saber was gone, but they were still alive. He needed to focus on them for now.

"Right," Shirou told himself. He slapped his cheeks a few times as though it would drive thoughts of Saber from his head, just hard enough to hurt. "I can't stay here."

He turned to leave, paused, and glanced one last time at the spot where she'd been standing. She was still gone, and there was still no sign she'd ever been there. He sighed, turned back away, and shook his head. No, she was gone. No more distractions.

"I need to go back."

He lifted his foot to start walking, but met resistance immediately. His foot was stuck. He glanced down, and his stomach lurched. A black sludge was bubbling up from the dirt and grass and frothing over his shoes. He tried to lift his foot again, but it was like he was standing knee-deep in a thick, mushy mud. No matter how hard he tried, every time he lifted his foot, it was sucked back down into the sludge, which was growing larger and thicker and slowly bubbling up over his legs, then his knees and his thighs.

The Grail. The mud from the Grail, which carried inside of it a terrible curse, the very curse that had inevitably taken Emiya Kiritsugu to the grave. This was that very same mud, and it was reaching for him, trying to consume him — to exact upon him the very price that it had placed upon his father.

He wouldn't let it.

He struggled desperately, thrashing about, even tried the dangerous, unpracticed magic of reinforcing his muscles. He projected Kanshou and Bakuya and cut at it, sliced through the molasses-like ooze, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not pull free. The sludge consumed his torso, then his arms and crept up his chest slowly but surely. It slid over his shoulders, slimy and gooey and disgusting. His neck was next, and as the sludge reached his chin, he tilted his head back and thrust his mouth upwards as though he were trying keep his head above the water.

He screamed. No one heard.

"_If that is what you wish, Champion_," a gurgling voice whispered in his ear. Then the sludge rose up over his face and everything went black. He was blind and deaf and insensate. He could hear nothing, see nothing, smell nothing, and his entire body was numb.

"It has begun?" a regal-sounding voice asked from out of the darkness. It was everywhere and nowhere all at once, and it seemed to be coming from both the vast emptiness that surrounded him and from deep inside himself.

"Yes," a second voice answered. "The journey starts now, and we shall be his guide."

And then he was spiraling down, down, down, or maybe up, or maybe to the left or right, or maybe backwards or maybe forwards. There was no sense of time, duration, no sense of distance or space or direction. All he knew was that he was spiraling through emptiness along an invisible, indeterminate path, approaching something vast and incomprehensible, going down, down, _down_ the rabbit hole, passing a canal of stars, a large red figure that watched him as he went, passing through intangible gates and barriers, through metaphysical checkpoints, above walls that he couldn't see, beneath unseeable traps and blockades, until, finally, he stopped.

He wondered, for a moment, if he was dead.

"I am Servant Saber," a familiar voice declared suddenly.

His heart stopped. His brain skidded to a halt.

_There was no way._

And yet, Shirou opened his eyes and looked up upon the beauty he could have sworn he'd just said goodbye to. She stood in front of him, clad in her trademark blue dress and her silvery-gray armor. Her golden blonde hair was done up in its usual style, and upon her face was the fierce, unreadable look he'd come to associate with her in battle.

She was beautiful.

The numbness in his limbs faded, it melted away like so much ice on a hot summer day, and his hands stung from the abrupt coldness of the concrete upon which he was propped. His chest ached, ached both in his heart and his lungs, and he realized that he hadn't been breathing. He inhaled sharply. The scent of burgundy, fresh water, and wet dog swirled together and up his nose. He'd gone, somehow, from the Ryûdô Shrine to the small shed in his own home's backyard that served as his workshop.

"Upon your summoning, I have come forth," Saber continued stoically. The familiar coldness in her eyes, which had only thawed after they had stood side by side in battle against Berserker three times, looked down upon him calmly. "I ask of you: are you my Master?"

His mouth was wrenched from his control and the words left his lips of their own accord. "I am," he told her. He swallowed. His throat was suddenly dry.

She glanced down at his left hand, and so did he, and there, etched into his flesh in red ink, were his Command Seals. All three of them.

And yet, by his count, he'd just used the last one _no more than ten minutes ago._

"Yes, you summoned me," she said. She looked back into his eyes. "And as a Saber, I heeded your call. My sword will be at your side from here on forward. From now on, whatever fate awaits you awaits me. The accord with us has now been struck."

And then she stiffened, and Shirou was flung from his stupor as she turned and leapt for the open door (no, now that he remembered it, the door had been torn from its place when he'd been flung through it by Lancer). Shirou lurched to his feet.

"Wait!" he cried, and latched onto her wrist. She looked back at him. Startled bewilderment was written all over her face, and he had the sudden realization that he didn't know why he'd stopped her or what to say now that he had.

And then the memory came flooding back. Lancer. The Hound of Ulster. Gáe Bolg.

Saber injured, Saber bleeding, Saber near death. Tousaka Rin. Archer.

Berserker.

Berserker, _Berserker, __**Berserker.**_

"This — this guy, Lancer," he said haltingly. "He uses a cursed spear. Gáe something or other."

Saber's face lit up, first with surprise, then with recognition. Somehow, by the power of the tainted Grail, he'd traveled back in time. Shirou had realized that the moment she'd made to tear out of his workshop after Lancer. He could hardly believe it, but the evidence was staring at him with her brilliant, verdant green eyes, and if there was one thing he just had to change, it was all the senseless violence that had been unleashed during the course of the war.

Because he was Emiya Shirou, and that's how he worked.

"I see," she said neutrally. "Thank you, Master."

Then she tore out of the room and out of his grip, and he was left standing there with his empty hand outstretched.

His palm tingled pleasantly.

He lunged through the door and out into the yard, where Saber and Lancer were dancing about each other, stabbing and slicing and twirling like acrobats. Lancer's skill was obvious — he handled his spear with expert ease, and it moved in his hands like it was an extension of his arms — but Saber knocked every blow aside and pressed back with powerful, two-handed strikes that would have broken a normal man's arms. Then, with a final war cry, they swung at each other and were forced apart by the blow.

"Tch!" Lancer growled. "What are you, a coward? Why don't you stop hiding behind that weapon and reveal it?"

Saber's only answer was to leap at him again and drive him backwards with three more strikes, each of which rang loudly and clearly through the night air. Lancer grimaced, and Shirou could see the barest of nicks in the shaft of Gáe Bolg.

"Come now, Lancer," Saber said coyly. "Are you going to attack, or should I? If you retreat now, you'll disgrace your class."

Lancer twitched, but, with the appearance of a man reigning himself in, did not retaliate for the insult.

"Answer me a question, first," Lancer's lips pulled into a tight grin. "Your Noble Phantasm — it's a sword, right?"

A strange sort of half-smirk pulled at Saber's mouth. It looked vaguely creepy, Shirou decided.

"Maybe," she said mysteriously, "maybe not. It could be an axe. Or not. Maybe I have something completely different, like a bow."

Lancer scoffed.

"Get real, _Saber_," he said. He crouched low and poised the tip of his spear a few inches above the ground. "This is just our first encounter. Whaddya say we give it a rest and call it a draw?"

"Sorry, Lancer, but I finish what I start. Once two Servants meet in battle, necessity dictates that only one may walk away," Saber declared. "Besides, now that I've determined your identity, you're obligated to stay and finish, Hound of Culann."

Lancer twitched violently and grimaced. "Oh? And how did you manage that one?"

"The last Lancer I fought possessed a different weapon, and I can tell by looking at you, and the fact that your spear has had no effect on my Invisible Air, that you're not him," Saber said. "You're a Lancer, and your Noble Phantasm is a cursed spear whose name begins with Gáe. You are not Diarmuid of the Radiant Face, therefore, the only person you could be is Cúchulainn, the Hound of Culann."

That wasn't true, Shirou realized. _Ildánach Lugh,_ Cúchulainn's father, also possessed a spear with the name Gáe — Gáe Assail, the Lightning Spear.

No, wait, that was wrong. Gáe Assail wasn't a cursed spear. It utilized teleportation magic to strike instantly at its target, but it wasn't cursed so that any wound inflicted couldn't heal.

"Well, now, I'm impressed," Lancer said. "All that with nothing but the barest of information. Bravo. But still," he grinned maliciously, "that won't save you! Not from _my _spear!"

The air froze. The spear in his hand began to vibrate, and he threw himself forwards at Saber. The distance that had separated them disappeared in an instant. It was going to strike. In a moment, Lancer would shout the name of his Noble Phantasm and the Spear of Impaling Barbed Death would strike Saber's heart. Once the attack began, there was no avoiding it.

But it was possible to stop it.

"Trace, _on_."

The moment Lancer kicked off the ground and shot his body forward, the words of his incantation left Shirou's mouth. In his hands, Kanshou and Bakuya appeared, twin swords of black and white.

What he was about to do was Archer's technique. He could not say how he knew it, only that he did. Either way, the how and why wasn't important at that moment.

Saber began to backpedal. For all her speed, however, Saber wasn't as fast as Lancer, who was the fastest Servant. Her Luck might be enough to spare a fatal blow, but there was no way for her to dodge the full attack.

Shirou wound his arms close to his chest and swiftly calculated his trajectory. It needed to work right. One mistake and he might hit Saber instead.

"GÁE!"

Shirou's arms swung out. Kanshou and Bakuya scissored and twisted through the air, curving around like boomerangs. Lancer, too distracted by the activation of his technique, didn't see them slicing towards his face as he thrust forward.

"BOL —"

At last, he saw them, and Lancer jerked his torso backwards to avoid the sharp edges as Saber pushed herself back and out of his range. Kanshou and Bakuya smashed together and blew apart into tiny fragments that disappeared before they even hit the ground.

Lancer huffed.

"My only objective tonight was to observe," he said. "I had no intentions of tangling with another Servant. Then you showed up, and as long as I was around, I'd figured I'd enjoy a good fight. But I ain't stupid." He shook his head. "You've got a pretty competent Master back there, Saber. I know better than to mess with you while that guy is hanging around doing high-end projection magic like it's nothing. Later!"

"You're leaving?" Saber demanded furiously.

"You're welcome to follow me!" Lancer called over his shoulder as he leapt away. "But if you try, I might just have to take advantage of the opening and finally kill that little master of yours!"

And he was gone.

Shirou rushed up to Saber and gave her a quick glance to make sure she hadn't been injured while her back was turned. It took all of his control not to reach out to her, touch her face, run his hands through her hair, and make sure she was real and not a dream or hallucination. Then she spun around and fixed him with a fierce glare.

"That was incredibly reckless of you," she scolded. "Normal humans, no matter how skilled, cannot stand up to a Servant. You were better off leaving that fight to me."

Shirou frowned.

"I wasn't just going to stand there and let him attack you," he retorted. "If I have the power to make a difference, then shouldn't I? And who are you, anyway?"

Rin had often told him that he couldn't lie, so Shirou hoped with all of his heart that his feigned ignorance seemed genuine.

"Must you even ask that? I am Saber, your Servant," she said. "As I recall, you are the one who summoned me, so you should know all too well why I'm here."

"Servant…?" Shirou mumbled. He hoped he sounded like he was thinking about the term, like he was trying to remember some fact that lay in the back of his mind. He needed to sell this. He needed to sound convincing — competent, but still a little clueless.

After all, there was no way anyone would believe he'd time traveled.

"Oh, yeah," he said finally. He put on a frown. "Dad mentioned something about that a while back. What was it…The Holy Grail War, right?"

"Yes," she said. "A competition between seven Master-Servant pairs for the prize of the Holy Grail, and the wish that it promises. We are one of those pairs. You have summoned me, a Servant of the Saber class, and so it is probably best that you call me Saber, Master."

"Don't call me 'Master," Shirou said. "My name is Emiya Shirou. And I don't know about the rest of the competitors, but I don't intend to be your Master."

Saber's eyes turned frigid.

"_What_?" she demanded tersely.

Uh oh, Shirou thought. Misunderstanding. Back up, explain.

"Look, I'm not just going to sit around and let you do everything," Shirou said. "I don't really have anything I want to wish for, so I don't want anything from this Holy Grail thing, but if you do, then I guess you can just consider us partners, alright? And partners don't call each other 'Master."

The tension eased from her shoulders and her eyes. "I see," she said. A small smile curled her lips, and his heart gave a great lurch. She was right there, and he could not hold her, could not kiss her, because she didn't know him yet. He was only her Master; he had not yet become the man she fell in love with. "Yes, I understand. Shirou, then. I like the sound of that much better."

"Good," he said. "But I want to get one thing out in the open, before we do anything else. I'll help you get the Grail, but I'm competing only because I want to limit the number of casualties. I understand that Servants have to be killed to be defeated, so there's only one rule that I'm going to ask you to follow: we don't kill the Masters, not unless it's to stop them from hurting innocent people. Okay?"

Saber closed her eyes, let out a slow breath through her nose, then opened them again. The first time through, she'd been furious that Shirou refused to kill enemy Masters. This time, she accepted his decision without argument. Shirou was thankful for that.

"Very well," she said. "I can abide by that rule. Yes, even, I can understand it. If that is your order, Master, then I shall obey it."

"Thank you," Shirou said gratefully.

He paused. He was struck by a sudden thought. Last time, the first real effort he had put into trying to woo her had been the day they'd spent on a date. What if...?

"You know," he began casually, "Saber's just a sort of codename, right? Can you tell me your real name? I mean, I can't think of too many stories I've heard about beautiful, female knights." Saber blinked and her mouth fell open. She looked surprised, dumbfounded, that someone thought of her as beautiful — again, Shirou cursed the circumstances that had spurred her to seek the Grail, the heartless people of Britain who had turned her into an ideal rather than a person, but forced himself not to show it. "Jeanne d'Arc is the only one that really comes to mind —"

"I'm not the Maid of Orleans!" Saber burst out with sudden anger. Shirou tried his best not flinch, but didn't think he was very successful. Saber flushed and looked away, clearly embarrassed about her outburst, but Shirou could not help thinking she looked rather cute. She fidgeted a little, then looked back at him. Her cheeks were still a little pink. "I apologize for my sudden rudeness. It's just that another Servant mistook me for her the last time I was summoned. The things he did to try and capture me for himself were —"

Then she stopped cold, eyes wide, and spun around.

"Two more?" she asked herself quietly. "I see. Judging by their presence, they shouldn't be a problem." She turned to address Shirou. "Shirou, another enemy is nearby, but it shouldn't be too difficult to defeat them. Please wait here."

She leapt away, over the gate of his home, and off into the darkness of the night. Shirou hurried after her. He sprinted to the gate, fumbled a moment with the latch and lock, then flung it open and ran out into the night.

_Where is she going?_ The question echoed in his head. _There shouldn't be anything — Rin!"_

He turned the corner just in time to see Saber crash through Archer's projected Kanshou and Bakuya and carve a slice along his chest — not fatal, but certainly debilitating. Archer stumbled backwards and fell to his knees, gasping for breath, and Saber lifted her blade to deal the final blow.

"Archer, vanish!" Rin's voice called out. Archer disappeared like dust in the wind as Invisible Air bit into the ground — he'd been forced back into spirit form, or maybe back to Tousaka's house. Shirou wasn't sure.

Saber didn't stop. She charged forward as Rin backtracked, and Shirou might have been concerned but for the rule he had just set down a minute before — and Saber, above all else, was honorable. Rin tossed one of her jewels out, but Shirou watched as it vaporized mere inches from Saber's face. She was incredibly magically resistant.

The first time around, Saber had made to cut Rin down and Shirou had stopped her (and was prepared to do so again). This time, he watched as she came upon Rin and backhanded her across the face and into the wall protecting Shirou's home. Rin crumpled like a sheet of paper and was still for a moment, and when she opened her eyes again, Saber's invisible sword was pointed at her threateningly. Shirou was definitely satisfied — Saber had stuck to his rule. He released the mental grip he'd had on his Command Seals.

"Yield," Saber said coldly.

Rin said nothing for a moment.

"I suppose," she began, "I could have been happy if a competent Magus had been the one to summon Saber instead of me, but you, Emiya, of all people…"

Shirou snorted.

"And I wonder what the school would think to find out that the star student is actually a Magus," he retorted. "Issei'd probably say something like, 'I knew it all along!' or 'Just as I thought!"

Rin huffed, stood slowly and wobbled just once, then straightened to her usual confident stance. She put her hands on her hips and smirked. It was ruined by the angry red mark on her cheek.

"I don't suppose you'd like to take this conversation somewhere more comfortable, would you? After all, I'm going to have a bruise on this cheek tomorrow, so you'd better take some responsibility."

"Wait a minute," Saber said. She looked at Shirou with a frown, though she had not let her sword drop. "Shirou, you know this girl?"

And Shirou remembered that he had traveled back in time, so no, not only did he not know Tousaka, but Tousaka and Saber were also complete strangers to each other.

"Know _of_ her is more like it," Shirou corrected. "She and I go to the same school, although she's in a different class than I am. In fact, before today, I don't think we've talked at all."

"How cold of you, Emiya," Rin said sarcastically. "Anyway, if my suspicions are correct, then you're rather clueless about what's going on here, aren't you? And I don't think you're much of a Magus, either, considering how easily Lancer took you down the first time — no magic used in your own defense at all."

She turned and strode away haughtily. "The least you could do is offer me something to drink," she called over her shoulder. "After all, I _did_ save your life earlier today."

Saber glanced at him with a look of uncertainty about her face. He sighed and shrugged. "She's like Fuji-nee, I guess," he said. "Once she's got an idea in her head, there's no stopping her."

He made to follow Rin. Saber trailed behind him dutifully.

"I suppose I can understand that," Saber said. "However, is it truly such a good idea to allow another Master into your home?"

"Maybe not," he admitted. "But really, I don't think Rin will be any trouble. After all, you beat her Servant — Archer, I think she called him — in one attack, right? It'd be pretty stupid of her to attack me in my own home when you're standing right next to me, and a girl like Tousaka Rin is anything but stupid."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Saber conceded quietly.

They found Rin standing before a window that Shirou had forgotten had been broken and looking out onto the courtyard where Lancer and Saber had battled. She picked up a piece of shattered glass and ran her finger over it. Before Shirou's very eyes, the window reformed as though it had never been damaged in the first place — there wasn't even the slightest crack.

"Better," Rin said. "I expect that you're at least capable of that, Emiya."

If he hadn't seen much more incredible magic, Shirou expected that he would have been (and had been) much more impressed by her display than he actually was. Instead, he felt only the sharp lance of embarrassment.

"Sorry," he said sheepishly. "I can't do anything like that."

Rin whirled around. "What?" she asked incredulously. "You've got to be kidding me. That's like the first thing they teach you!"

"Sorry," he said again. "I only know the stuff my dad taught me and whatever I managed to figure out myself, and even that's nothing formal."

"So you can't even control the five elements or anything?" she asked disappointedly.

"Nope," Shirou declared bluntly.

"You can't make a Pass or set up defenses around your workshop, or - or anything like that?"

"I'm afraid not."

"Can you even make a magic circle?"

"Sorry, no."

Her brow furrowed.

"So you're a complete novice," Rin concluded.

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," Shirou said. "I mean, I can do Reinforcement pretty well, but I'd have to say that I'm best at Projection."

There it was, another major change. Before, the first time through, he'd started off with nothing more than Reinforcement and he'd muddled his way on with that. If he was going to do this, though, and take it seriously, then he couldn't handicap himself by pretending he was only good at Reinforcement. Hiding away his best ability, Projection, and pretending to slowly get better at it through the course of the War would only make things harder.

But if he could establish his skill at Projection from the very beginning…

"Of all the magics you decided to learn, it had to be the two most useless," Rin lamented. "And you're sure there's nothing else you can do?"

"No," he said. "That's it."

"How is it someone like you managed to summon a Saber?" she glanced over at Saber, then turned her eyes back on Shirou. "So I'm guessing you've got no clue regarding the situation you're in."

"Situation?" Shirou feigned ignorance. "If you mean the Grail War, then no, I've only got a pretty vague idea — bits and pieces of what my dad told me and the stuff that Saber's told me."

"You've been shanghai'ed into a tournament of a kind called the Holy Grail War," Rin informed him bluntly. "The Grail itself chooses seven Masters and grants each of them a Servant and three Command Seals — those markings on the back of your hand, there. They designate you as a Master. I am a Master as well, as I imagine you've probably already determined. As long as you have those three Command Seals, your Servant will continue to obey you — lose them, and your Servant can do whatever she likes to you."

She glanced over at Saber as though considering exactly what fate would await him if he used up all three of his Command Seals, but Saber only stared back stoically. Shirou fidgeted a little impatiently — he'd already gotten this lecture once, so it wasn't exactly fun to sit through it again.

"Each Command Seal represents one absolute command that your Servant cannot disobey," she went on. She adopted a sort of lecturing pose. Over the course of the first time through, Shirou had become intimately familiar with it. "You can even force them to do something that they don't want to or something that's beyond their natural capabilities. That's why you use them very sparingly and always keep your very last one in reserve."

A sharp retort balanced on the tip of his tongue, but he reigned it in — after all, hadn't Rin herself already used _two_ Command Seals?

"Servants are the spirits of legendary heroes summoned from across time," she explained. Shirou, who already knew this, would have stopped her if he thought she would let him. "They can come from any time period — past, present, even the future — and are given a body to fight with. They're sort of like familiars, but on a whole different level."

She walked over to Saber and gave her a long look over.

"It looks like you still haven't fully materialized," she declared. "I'm guessing it has to do with your Master. His incompetence has probably interfered with your summoning."

Shirou felt like that insult should've hurt a lot more than it actually did, but after spending the better part of two weeks with Rin shooting insults at him at least as bad, if not worse, he figured he'd developed a sort of immunity to them.

"Correct," Saber said in her usual cold, calm voice. "Shirou possesses a significant amount of Prana, but the bond between us is not stable enough to complete the process. With time, perhaps that might change, but for now, I cannot take spirit form, and regenerating my own energy will take more effort."

"Good grief!" Rin cried. "If _I_ were your Master, I could take care of both those problems easily!"

"So you're saying I'm not fit to be a Master," Shirou clarified.

"Not even close!"

Shirou couldn't say he blamed her. If he didn't know the things he knew about what was to come, he would have put his money on Rin, too. He might have summoned Saber, but Rin was a far more competent Magus.

Rin sighed. "Very well, then. We should get going."

Shirou's hands curled into fists. The Church. The tortured orphans in the basement. Kotomine Kirei. The very man he had, from his perspective, killed no more than half an hour ago.

"Where are we going?" he asked. He tried desperately to keep the tension out of his voice, but judging by the suspicious glance Saber threw his way, he had not completely succeeded.

"We're going to pay a visit to the man who oversees this whole War," Rin said. A smirk curled on her lips.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They walked through the silent town and said little. The houses around them were all dark and the streetlights offered the only light besides the stars and the barely-there moon. It was only natural — it had already been late when everything had started, and the church was quite a ways away from the Emiya house. Shirou spent most of the journey mentally preparing himself to face Kirei again, and so forgot to take the shortcut to the bridge. Rather than cut through the park as they would have if he had had the presence of mind to lead, Rin took them the standard route and led the way across the bridge to Shinto.

She must have seen how distracted he was, because she didn't say anything again until they'd climbed up the hill and reached their destination.

A grand-looking church stood before them, looming out of the darkness like some great beast standing guard over the gates to hell.

"So this supervisor-guy lives _here_?" Shirou asked. It was annoying, he could not help thinking, that he had to keep feigning ignorance about the things he knew. He wished that he could hurry things up — take care of Shinji right away, take down Caster before she could hurt Sakura, skewer Gilgamesh from behind, and end Kotomine's little game before it could even get started — but he was not a fool.

Again, no one would believe he time traveled.

Even then, it was in his nature to discard the consequences to himself, but he wasn't stupid enough to think he could accomplish all he needed to do to stop the more sinister players in the War before someone reacted and killed him — and what would that accomplish? If he died before he could stop Kirei and Caster and Gilgamesh, then who would stand up to them when the time came?

The advantage of knowing about those threats gave him an edge that even Rin, genius that she was, couldn't beat.

"Yes," Rin said, "this is Kotomine Church."

"Shirou," Saber said suddenly, "I think it best if I stay out here."

He looked back at her over his shoulder, but he couldn't blame her. The church had never struck him as a particularly pleasant place, even before he had discovered the basement. If Saber could sense even a portion of the _wrongness_ that pervaded the walls, then it was only natural that she'd want to stay as far away as she could.

"I accompanied you to this place so I could protect you," she explained. "If this church is where you'll be tonight, then I'm sure I'll be able to find you within its proximity."

Shirou gave only a nod.

The church was as dark and spooky as he remembered it as Rin threw open the doors. The pale light of the waxing moon cast their shadows across the floor. As she led him inside, Shirou felt like Gilgamesh would jump out at him from one of the spots too dark to see into, or maybe the people dying beneath his feet would reach up through the floor and drag him down.

"Tousaka," he began, mostly to put some sort of sound into the eerie silence, "just how well do you know this priest?"

It was a question that he had probably asked the first time, too, but it had an entirely different meaning, now. She couldn't have known, of course, but he was asking if she realized just how twisted Kotomine Kirei actually was.

"Well, I can tell you that he's a Magus," Rin said coolly. "And he also happens to be my legal guardian. You see, he's…kind of served as my second teacher."

"A Magus, huh?" he mused. "Is there anyone in this town who isn't?"

Another question that had more meaning to it than Rin would ever realize. It was kind of fun, in a twisted sort of way. All these innocent questions that only had deeper meaning if you knew what Shirou did. It was kind of fun, but also a bit frustrating — all the truths were on the tip of his tongue, and only knowing that it would be futile kept them from spilling out like a waterfall.

"Yes, he's a Magus," Rin said. "And that's why he can be such a pain in the ass. His name is Kotomine Kirei. He was one of my father's peoples. We've been basically forced to put up with each other for ten years, now. If it'd been up to me, we would've had nothing to do with each other."

Kirei stepped out of the darkness like some sort of phantom. A small smirk was curling on his lips.

"And I would have preferred not to have a student who can't show her teacher proper respect."

Then he stood straight and the smirk was gone. Shirou tried desperately to keep his hands from curling back into fists. He only barely succeeded.

"So, what brings you here, Rin?"

"I've brought the seventh Master to meet with you," Rin said. She looked back at Shirou and frowned. "He's technically a Magus, but he's so unbelievably inept that it pained me to ignore it."

Kirei's lips curled again and he leaned forward to meet Shirou's eyes. "Tell me, my son," he said silkily, "what would your name be?"

Shirou bit his cheek to halt the more venomous retorts that tried to escape and tensed the muscles in his legs to stop himself from taking a step back. He wouldn't show any weakness. He'd already killed Kirei once. When the time came, he would do it again.

"Emiya Shirou," he said firmly. He had to fight away the mental image that popped into his mind right then, the picture of Rin leaning against a blood-splattered wall, barely alive, barely conscious.

"Well…Emiya," Kirei smiled. A chuckle rumbled up in his chest. Of course — Kotomine had always known exactly whose son he was, hadn't he? "And you're certain that you're Saber's Master?"

"As I understand it, yeah," Shirou said. "But that doesn't mean that I get everything that's happening here. The only thing I've got to go on are a few stories from my dad and what Rin and Saber have told me."

A bold, bald-faced lie, and Shirou felt that it should have been ridiculously easy to see through, but neither Rin nor Kotomine seemed to recognize it as anything but the truth. Maybe, just maybe, he could do this.

"Ah," Kirei said. "Yes, that _is_ a problem. Very well. Seeing as this is the first time Rin has ever asked for my help, I believe the least I can do for you, Shirou, is to oblige. Listen, then: being a Master is not something you can simply hand from one person to the next. And once you become a Master, you can't just walk away from the fight. Those symbols on your hand are a stigmata. The role of master is a trial that has been awarded to you. You can't turn away simply because it's _inconvenient_."

Kirei gestured with his hand.

"If you truly want to give up your role as Master, your only choice is to win the Grail and make your wish."

"You say that like it's easy," Shirou retorted. It left his mouth before he could stop it; it was the only thing he could think to say.

"Anything but," Kirei agreed. "The reward, however, is anything you desire, anything at all. If you win the Grail, you'll have the rare chance to have the contents of your soul wiped clean. In fact, if you wanted, you can even go back in time and start your whole life all over."

Shirou stiffened just the slightest. Did Kirei actually _know_ about Saber's wish, or was it simply a coincidence?

Or worse, did Kirei, _somehow_, know what he'd done?

"So, if you get the opportunity to make your wish, you'll be thanking your lucky stars you were chosen to be a Master. If you want to rid yourself of those invisible burns, your only choice is to _accept_ your stigmata."

"Would you _please_ get to the point?" Rin said impatiently. "I only brought him here so that you could explain the rules to him."

Kirei huffed. "I suppose I'll cut to the chase, then. Here are the underlying principles behind the Grail Wars: it's a series of battles to be fought by seven Master-Servant pairs. Participants in this war are not chosen simply because they wish to be; they are chosen as part of a ritual to determine who is most worthy to possess the Holy Grail."

He looked back a Shirou, and Shirou felt a sudden surge of hatred. "Trust me," he said. "This is the genuine article, the _real_ Holy Grail. Perhaps not the Cup of the Messiah, but it is capable of all the things I've said it is. The miracles that the Servants perform should be proof enough of that fact. They themselves are either legends or historical figures summoned forth by the Holy Grail and materialized here in physical form. In theory, they should remain in spirit form and stay close to their Master's side. They are to materialize and fight only when the need arises."

"Yes, but Emiya's Servant is a bit different," Rin interjected a bit disdainfully. "Because her Master is a complete novice, she can't take spirit form."

"The Grail's ability to resurrect spirits can certainly be considered _real_ magic," Kirei said. He ignored Rin. "In light of that fact, questions about its authenticity are moot."

"I get it; the Holy Grail is the real thing," Shirou said tersely. He took a breath and forced the animosity boiling in his chest away. "But if it really has all this power, why do you have to _kill_ people over it? Why not just _share_?"

Or why not just destroy the whole thing? If it was so powerful, it was equally dangerous. Everyone would be far better off if it was just dismantled.

And that was ignoring the fact that the damn thing was _tainted_, too.

"A logical question," Kirei admitted. "The answer is that the seven Masters are the people the Grail feels have the most potential to possess it, and the Wars are to determine which of those Masters is the most capable of all. Everything is carried out by the Grail itself."

"But where's the rule that says you have to kill the Masters to obtain the Grail?" Shirou demanded a little hotly. It had bothered him the first time, too, that everyone seemed to think you had to kill the enemy Masters, even after their Servants had been defeated. Even Saber had originally had that sort of attitude.

"There isn't one," Rin said. "Servants are the key: only Servants can actually touch the Grail, so Servants are the only ones you really have to target."

"There's no rule, no," Kirei informed him. "However, tell me, Emiya Shirou, do you think you could defeat your own Servant?"

"Of course not."

A lie, but an easier one. There was probably a treasure in the Gate of Babylon capable of giving him an advantage against Saber, so all he'd have to do is Project it and he could probably beat her.

Probably (but if he were entirely honest with himself, not likely).

The question, then, before anything else, was not _if_ he could beat Saber but whether or not he would _want_ to, and the answer to that was a simple "no."

"Exactly," Kirei agreed. "Servants are very powerful. It's difficult for other Servants to defeat another Servant. Without a Master, however, Servants cannot exist in this world. Therefore, the easiest way to defeat a Servant is to eliminate its Master."

"But even that isn't a guarantee," Rin butted in. "Servants don't always disappear immediately after their Master is killed. A Master who's lost his Servant, and a Servant who's lost his master, can create a new pact and rejoin the battle. Similarly, a Servant whose Master has used all his Command Seals is free to find a new Master and make a new pact."

"And the Master who's used up his Command Seals is relieved of his title of Master," Kirei took over. "Of course, a Magus who's used up his Command Seals will be thought of as a complete fool. If, however, that should happen to you, then I will personally guarantee you sanctuary here at the church."

He gestured grandly to the open air.

"In the past, Masters butchered each other indiscriminately. At the beginning of the Fourth War, the Mage's Association appointed a supervisor from the Holy Church. That was my father, so you could say I inherited this position."

"So, what would happen if one of the Masters attacked this place and killed both the Masters in sanctuary and you?" Shirou asked. "What prevents a determined Master from killing everyone in the church?"

Because sooner or later, there would have to be a confrontation between Kirei and Shirou, and Shirou would be an idiot to disregard how much of an advantage it would be to get the first strike in on Gilgamesh and Kirei. There were other threats, to be sure, but at the end of it all, the final battle would come down to two enemies.

Kirei's lips pulled into a frown.

"As I said, the Mage's Association takes a great interest in the Grail Wars. Any Master who ignores the right to this church as a sanctuary will be hunted down as a Heretic for the rest of their lives. _Mercilessly._"

Kirei turned away.

"The last Grail War ended in a sort of stalemate," Kirei said. "Someone unworthy touched the Grail, and from that arose the great conflagration of ten years ago. Before even that Master was rejected, another Master tried to grasp the Grail as well, but this Master had tried his hardest to spend the entire War avoiding battle. He, too, was deemed unworthy."

"I see," Shirou said quietly. For an instant, the image of that hell had appeared before his eyes. He squared his shoulders to give the illusion of mustering his confidence, but his decision had been made long before he had set foot in this church for this iteration of the Fifth War. "All right, then. In order to stop another such tragedy from occurring, I'll do it. I'll become a Master in this Holy Grail War."

"Very well," Kirei said grandly. "All seven Masters have been chosen and acknowledged. I now declare the start of this Fifth Holy Grail War!"

Rin smiled, that small, fake little smile that would never fool Shirou, but could put nearly the entirety of his classmates under her spell.

"Well, all right, then," she said sweetly. "That takes care of that. Let's go, Emiya."

Shirou took one look back at Kirei, then turned to follow Rin out of the church.

"Rejoice, my son, for at last your wish will be granted!" Kirei called dramatically.

Shirou just kept on walking.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Saber was waiting outside. At first glance, she looked calm and nonchalant, but Shirou had long learned to read her posture and the nonverbal cues in her stance. She wanted to know if he had decided to stay a Master, or if he was giving up his Command Seals. Shirou set his stance straight and looked her in the eyes.

"Let's go, Saber," he said. "There's nothing else to do here tonight."

"I see," she said. The smallest of smiles curled her lips. "Very well, then."

The trip back was nearly silent. They said nothing to each other, and only their footsteps broke the eerie stillness of the night around them. They walked back down the hill, across the bridge, through the park, and stopped at the intersection that stood between the old fashioned Japanese neighborhood that Shirou lived in and the newer western-style neighborhood where Rin lived.

"I've helped you as much as I can," Rin told him. There was an eerie silver mist creeping along the pavement, and Shirou was only half paying attention to what Rin was saying. "After this, we'll be enemies, Emiya. I've repaid my debt to you."

"You're a good person, Tousaka," he commented distractedly. He cast about discreetly for the hulking form of Berserker, but there wasn't a single sign of him. How could a monstrosity that big manage to hide so easily?

"Oh, please," Rin said amusedly, "don't flatter me. I don't respond to it—"

Shirou felt it then, the icy chill that swept down his spine, a moment before Saber called his name.

"Shirou!"

He spun around just as the first titters of Illya's laughter echoed through the fog, and from out of the mist appeared the muscle-bound Berserker and the petite, violet-clad form of Ilyasviel von Einzbern.

A dozen different plans burst through Shirou's brain, each one more ridiculous and less feasible than the last. It was certainly true that Saber was better off than she had been the first time, but he certainly wasn't confident enough to imagine that Saber could beat Heracles with anything less than Excalibur's full power.

And even then, he wasn't sure if she could take all twelve lives in one go. If she didn't, then Heracles would wipe the floor with her afterwards because she'd be far too exhausted to even fight back.

"Hello again, Onii-chan," Ilya said innocently. It contrasted with the vicious, confident glee that danced in her eyes and the vaguely evil smirk that curled her lips. "This makes it the _second_ time we've met."

And Shirou realized, for the first time, just what a daunting task it would be to make it through the Fifth Holy Grail War a second time.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**For those of you who are joining us on this adventure, I ask you to please keep an open mind. There will be a lot of things going on that will not make sense until we get rather far into the story, and I know it's a very real possibility that some people won't want to wait around if/when they read something that doesn't immediately make sense. All I'm asking is that you don't leave, and that if you have an issue with something, you bring it to me so that I may tell you whether or not that issue is ever solved. There will undoubtedly be a few mistakes here and there, but the really big issues will most likely be taken care of later on.**

**A number of things are happening in the background that Shirou is as yet (and may always be) unaware of, and a number of those things won't be revealed until rather late in the story (this is supposed to be like a novel, after all, so you're not going to get six different POVs; we might diverge to Archer here and there, but for the most part, it's all Shirou). There will be a number of things that will happen in here that no one in the FSN fandom has actually experimented with, so even though a lot of things will look really familiar, there's gonna be huge sections of uncharted territory that we'll be exploring.**

**This story was inspired partly by "Fate ReNight," hence the very similar beginnings, but will diverge greatly. The Shirou of this story went through the Anime route, but you can expect this story to have fragments of all three VN routes as well. This will be predominently "Fate," but there will be parts of "Unlimited Blade Works" and "Heaven's Feel" in here, too. HF will be the smallest bit, but it will be there.**

**Revised: 12/30/12**

_**I am the bone of my sword.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	2. The Victorious

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter II: The Victorious  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"This is bad," Rin hissed at him. "That thing's way out of our league!"

"Nice to meet you, Rin," Illya curtsied. "My name is Illya, Illyasviel von Einzbern. You know who I am, right?"

Rin, who was standing behind Shirou, gave a little gasp, and he imagined her jerking as though she had been slapped.

"Von Einzbern?" she murmured. Shirou didn't know what the name meant to Rin, because he didn't remember Rin ever explaining why she should have recognized it. It probably had something to do with all of those "famous Magus families," like the Tousaka and the big wigs at the Mage's Association.

"There's no point in introducing everybody, so don't bother," Illya said with a smile. "In just a few minutes, you'll all be dead!" She raised a single slim finger to point at Shirou and the two girls next to him. "Okay, hope you're ready to die! Go get 'em, Berserker!"

The monstrous creature behind her leapt into the air and came screaming towards them with a furious battle cry. He landed with a thunderous boom that sent the concrete beneath Shirou's feet quaking.

"Shirou, stay back!" Saber said. She leapt forward without waiting for his command and made to intercept Berserker. Shirou, who knew her best, could just barely detect the faint note of worry in her otherwise calm and confident voice.

"Saber, wait!" he called after her. He needed a plan. She couldn't just rush in and expect to defeat the strongest of the Servants like it was nothing. He needed to find a way for her to win, or at least force a retreat.

Last time, he'd thrown himself in front of an attack that would have killed Saber, and something had happened while he was unconscious and bleeding out that had convinced Illya to retreat.

Saber blocked Berserker's first blow and deflected it to the side with a grunt, then jumped over the second swing and began a sort of dance. She parried, deflected, or sidestepped every blow that came her way, and ducked under the ones that would have taken her head. It was like watching some sick parody of a ballet, where the slightest mistake, just one toe out of line, meant death.

"His sword is gigantic," Rin said quietly. "Yet, he's swinging it like a _toy_!"

"That's it! Get her, get her!" Illya cheered in the background.

Saber leapt upwards and pushed sideways off a telephone pole, then settled herself on the wire and ran along it the same as if it were solid ground. Berserker chased after her and cut the line, but she simply leapt over to another one, then another, and flung herself to the ground — _right in front of Illya_.

Shirou would have said something, would have reminded her about the rule he'd made and the promise he'd extracted from her to follow it, but he didn't have the chance. Berserker's gigantic sword swung around and crashed against Invisible Air with enough force to send Saber careening backwards and into a telephone pole. Illya looked a little shaken, but unharmed.

Saber was losing. Just barely, but she was losing. Shirou knew her well enough by now to see it.

"C'mon," he said to himself. "Think. Think! How do I go about beating an unbeatable enemy?"

"That's good, Berserker!" Illya called cheerfully. "Finish her off!"

"_If you face an opponent you cannot defeat, then visualize something that will allow you to defeat him."_

Archer's words came back to him, right then. If you weren't strong enough to beat your foe, then come up with something that would make you strong enough. He'd used that twice, first against Berserker, then again against Gilgamesh.

Rin started chanting. Her eyes were closed and her arm was thrust forward in front of her. Then her hand formed a gun-shape and balls of black energy leapt from her fingertip like bullets to crash against Berserker — the Curse of the Gandr. She'd used it against Shirou and in front of him enough times that he recognized it by sight.

Against Berserker, it was useless. The curse splashed against his skin and broke like water. Berserker shrugged it off like it was nothing and lifted his sword again. Saber jumped away, but she'd moved too soon. Berserker corrected his swing and caught her in the side. Red blood splattered against the pavement and Saber tumbled across the ground like a ragdoll.

An agonizing pain clenched at Shirou's heart like a vice. "Saber!"

She pressed her invisible sword to the ground and used it as a crutch to lift herself up. Her middle was splattered with blood and it ran like rivulets down the length of Invisible Air. There was a horrendous gash in her side, between the cuirass that protected her chest and the tassets that protected her outer legs (or perhaps they were cuisses, he didn't know for sure), and any normal human would have already been dead.

He needed something to win, right then and there. He recalled Archer's advice again. Both times, it had been enough to either win outright or force a retreat.

But what could he use…?

"_This is Caliburn, the Sword in the Stone that Chooses Kings,"_ came the memory of Saber's voice.

"You're not going to win this," Illya declared brightly. "Berserker isn't your average Servant. He's the strongest Greek hero in all of history!"

"Trace on," Shirou murmured. He held his hands out as though grasping a sword. _Judge the concept of creation. Visualize the basic structure._

Caliburn's image appeared clearly in his head.

"Greek hero?" Rin echoed. "Wait a minute. Your Servant is a Greek hero? Then that means…!"

In Shirou's hands, the phantom of a sword appeared.

_Duplicate component materials. Match the original craftsmanship. _

"Yup," Illya said with a smile. "My Berserker is none other than the famous Heracles!"

_Sympathize with the experience of its growth._

"No way," Rin whispered.

_Reproduce the accumulated age._

"That's right," Illya's voice had gone from cheerful and bright to cold and malicious. "My Servant is the strongest hero in all of history. He's way better than any stupid Servant _you _could summon. Finish her off, Berserker! Chop off her head and put her out of her misery!"

_Excel every manufacturing process._

Berserker's sword came up. Shirou leapt into action and pushed Saber back behind him — "Shirou!" she cried — then lifted his projected Caliburn and reinforced his muscles as quickly as he could. Berserker's gigantic sword swung down, and it took every ounce of strength in Shirou's reinforced body to first block it, then deflect it to the side and into the ground. The muscles in his arms and legs _burned_ from the effort.

"Emiya, what…?" Rin's voice asked.

"That's my…" Saber whispered. In the shocked silence, she might as well have shouted.

Caliburn was lifted over his head.

"Illya," Shirou warned, "you _don't_ want to be in the way when this comes down."

Berserker jerked his sword free and lifted it again. Shirou flipped open every single one of his magic circuits and flooded Caliburn with Prana. The blade burst into light and glowed with every color of the rainbow, then settled to a pure, searing white that blazed like a newly-born star.

"Onii-chan, what are you doing?" Illya screamed fearfully.

"CALI —" Shirou swung down, "—BURN!"

From the blade of his sword erupted a burst of intense light that lanced Berserker along the path of the blade and rushed out in a wave that consumed the entirety of Shirou's vision. The tip of the sword crashed into something hard and solid at the end of the swing — he heard Illya gasp, the concrete crack and crumble, and the surprised exclamations of Saber and Rin, but for a moment, all he could see was the blaze of white that flooded his sight and nearly left him blind.

When it was over, Berserker knelt on the ground as steam rose off his body with a furious hiss. In front, around, and behind him, a gash had been torn into the pavement like some sort of mad god had reached down and gouged it away. Everyone seemed speechless, as though they couldn't believe what they had just seen.

"Three of them," Illya said at last. Her voice was filled with quiet awe and not a small amount of fear. "In one attack, Onii-chan took _three_ of Berserker's lives!"

"Emiya, you…"

"Shirou," Saber's voice whispered.

Shirou fell to one knee and pressed Caliburn to the ground as support. Every breath left and came in a pant and seared his lungs with agony. His entire body felt like it was on fire and sweat oozed from every pore. He felt empty, like a glass that had just been drained of its last drop of water.

Illya seemed to regain herself and huffed.

"This is boring!" she declared. "Let's go, Berserker!"

Berserker growled low, but faded and vanished back into spirit form, just as Archer had a scant few hours ago. Illya turned to leave, paused, then looked back over her shoulder.

"Rin," she said coolly, "just so we're clear, next time we meet, you're dead."

Then she turned back around and disappeared into the mist.

Whatever strength remained in Shirou's limbs left him. The adrenaline that had kept him awake long enough to watch Illya leave vanished like so much dust in the wind. He fell face forward into the concrete. Caliburn landed beside him with a clatter. Strange that it was still there, he could not help thinking. Last time, it'd vanished just a few seconds after it struck.

"A Noble Phantasm," Rin's voice was saying. She sounded shaky and uncertain, like her whole understanding of the world had just been uprooted. "Emiya has a thrice-damned Noble Phantasm!"

"Shirou!" Saber was at his side. He could vaguely make out the silvery form of her sabatons and the blue, white, and gold of her dress. "Shirou, are you all right?"

The entire world was going dark. His body ached desperately for sleep and he couldn't fight it. He needed rest. He needed time to regain his energy.

"Saber," he answered her. He tried to tell her that he was fine, just a little tired, but his throat refused to cooperate with him. His eyelids felt too heavy to keep open and he lost feeling in his limbs as every thought slowed to a halt.

He knew no more.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_"Stop…please…"_

_Her knees fell weakly to the ground. The black-armored knight heeded it not; he came upon her again, and his black sword was raised to cleave her head from her shoulders._

_Arondight. Dragonslayer. The Unfading Light of the Lake._

_She couldn't move; she had reached her limit. There was no way for her to defend against the next attack._

_Perhaps this was the only salvation._

_It was her fault that he was as he was, so filled with hatred — there was no other method of recompense but to use her body to receive the tainted black sword in his hands._

_At the exact moment that Saber had decided to completely abandon resistance, suddenly, Berserker stopped moving. In the silence, through the armor and cloth that protected him, her hand could clearly feel his gradually fading heartbeat._

_She gripped her beloved sword tightly and thrust the ever-sharp blade through his black armor. In a fleeting instant, victory had been decided, but the barely-there greed festering in the back of her mind made her ashamed of herself, and she could not help the tears that rolled down her cheeks._

_"Even thus, I still want the Grail."_

_Her tears fell down onto her trembling gauntlets and mingled with Berserker's blood, which had slid down the blade._

_"If I do not do this, my friend," she said. "If I do not do this, then I will be unable to give you any sort of recompense at all."_

_"Saddening indeed," Lancelot's voice rasped. "Things have come to this, and you still make excuses to fight?"_

_She looked up at Lancelot, and he down at her. All the traces of the madness that had so made him Berserker were gone, and he eyes were once again as calm as the lake itself._

_"Lancelot…"_

_"Yes…Thank you. Perhaps this is the only way I can convey my longing."_

_A breath. A sigh._

_"At that time, I had actually hoped that you would personally punish me, my King," he told her. "At that time, I really wished that you would denounce me out of your own anger. If I could have been punished by you…If you had demanded recompense from me, then I definitely would have believed in redemption. I would definitely have believed that I could one day find a way to forgive myself. The Queen is probably the same."_

_Lancelot let loose a deep sigh and relaxed into Saber's embrace. His body, which was slowly vanishing, was very light. He felt almost weightless._

_"To die in the King's arms, before the King's eyes," Lancelot chuckled sardonically. "Like this, it is really…as if I am a loyal knight…"_

Abruptly, Shirou awoke and lurched up and found himself sitting on his futon. His breath came in pants and his brow was soaked with sweat.

A dream.

Most assuredly, what he had just seen was a dream, and yet also a memory. It wasn't one of his own. No, it belonged to Saber, but he had never seen it before, and he had witnessed through those dreams all that was worth seeing of King Arthur and Camelot. It was not a dream of her natural life, of her life as King Arthur, so it could only be...

It was a dream about the Fourth Grail War.

Before, he hadn't really understood the dreams. He understood what they were _about_ and he understood what he'd been _seeing_, but he hadn't really understood what they were. Besides, they let him see Saber and understand her better. No matter what other misgivings he may have had about them, he cherished the untainted view they gave him of his Servant.

But this one...it was too personal.

The tragic reunion of a king and the knight who had betrayed her...it wasn't something he should've seen. It wasn't something he had any right to witness.

And yet, he had.

King Arthur, Sir Lancelot...One blaiming herself for the other's betrayal, one unable to believe in redemption, driven mad by his guilt.

Their tragic reunion, the outpouring of regretful feelings as they faced one another on the battlefield...Shirou had no right to witness something like that.

But he had anyway.

He threw off his covers fitfully, stood with a frown, and checked himself for injuries. He found none. His body was as fit as ever, perfectly healthy.

Avalon.

He went about his morning routine tinged with frustration — shower, dress, brush his teeth. With all of that taken care of, he left the bathroom, traveled down the hall, and slid open the door to what amounted to both the living room and the dining room, then stopped a moment.

"Morning, Tousaka," he said automatically, then he turned and started towards the kitchen.

He froze, then spun around and gaped at her.

"Tousaka!" he said, as though he had just realized she was sitting there. "You're…!"

'Alive' was the first thing that came to mind, because last he had seen her, she'd just healed a grievous wound inflicted by Kotomine Kirei, a wound that he had been sure would kill her. There had been so much blood splattered across the wall and she'd sounded so weak and fragile that only her reassurances and the need to deal with the fake priest himself had convinced him to leave her be.

Then his brain kickstarted and brought him back up to speed and he remembered that he had gone back in time and that last night had been the first confrontation with Berserker and Illya.

"Good morning," Rin said pleasantly. The way she sat there so calmly made it seem as though she were the host and he was the guest. "I hope you're not upset, but I decided to let myself in."

The next thing that came to mind burst out of his mouth a second later.

"What are _you_ doing here?" he asked.

She gestured for him to sit, and again he felt as though he were being treated like a guest in his own home. When he sat down across from her, she took a slow sip from her cup and set it down, then grimaced.

"Do you realize that you don't have any decent tea in this entire house?" she asked rhetorically. "If you're going to use tea bags, at least buy the triangular ones."

"Uh…sure," Shirou said slowly. He hadn't really been able to figure out the relevance of tea bags last time, either. "Tousaka…what exactly are you doing here?"

He hadn't been injured, this time, right? He'd faced Berserker without getting his stomach blown out. That meant that she had no reason at all to follow him home — oh, right. He'd passed out after using Caliburn on Berserker, so she'd still had to carry him back to his house. Of course. He should have realized that earlier.

Rin held up a hand.

"Wait a moment," she said. "First, I want a thank you for carrying you back here last night, and then I want both an apology and an explanation for what you did."

"Apology?" Shirou asked. She hadn't asked for that before, when he'd actually done something really stupid. "Why should I apologize for saving Saber's life? Especially since no one got hurt!"

"Masters don't put their necks on the line to save their Servants, because it doesn't make _sense_. Think about it, Emiya! If you die, then Saber disappears anyway! That's why it was stupid of you to try and save her and risk your own life in the process!" Rin countered. Yes, but Shirou was already well aware of that. "But that's not it! I want to know — why didn't you tell me you had something like a Noble Phantasm up your sleeve?"

That brought him up short. Where did she get the idea that he had a Noble Phantasm?

"I don't," Shirou said honestly. All of the swords he could project may have their abilities as Noble Phantasms, but they didn't last long, as he already knew.

"Don't you lie to me!" Rin screamed back at him. Shirou jerked backwards as though he'd been slapped. "You pulled out a Noble Phantasm against Berserker last night! Where the hell did you even get it?"

"It was just a Projection," Shirou explained. "I've — I've been seeing that sword in my dreams the last couple of nights, so I Projected it to use against Berserker."

He didn't add the last part: _because it worked against him the last time._

"Bullshit!" Rin yelled back. Her face was contorted into one of her rare furies. "Ordinary Projection magic can't faithfully recreate a Noble Phantasm, and even if it could, a Projection shouldn't last more than a minute or two! A Projected Noble Phantasm — even if it were _possible_ — should disappear within seconds! Emiya!" She pointed over to the corner of the room. "_That _is _not_ a Projection!"

There, sitting innocently in the corner of the room, was Caliburn in all its pristine and noble glory. It looked just as it did in all of his dreams and all of the times he had projected it, but it seemed, in some way, more real than it ever had before.

"It's still here?" Shirou asked numbly. He stood and walked over to it, then grasped it by the hilt and lifted it from the floor. Something inside of him thrummed triumphantly. But still…"It should have disappeared hours ago."

If it had been a normal item, then it could have lasted hours or even days, but weapons of such quality were too noticeable to remain for very long. Caliburn, even though the sword he Projected wasn't a Noble Phantasm, was an item that history said had been broken and lost. Because of that, the World automatically rejected the existence of a Projected copy because it was, in the end, an object that should not exist.

Shirou wasn't an expert Magus, nor a genius like Rin, but even _he_ understood that the World corrected irregularities like his Projections.

So then...why did the sword in his hand feel as real and as permanent as any spatula or ladle he had ever touched?

Why hadn't it disappeared?

_"A gift for our King,"_ Shirou thought he heard a voice whisper, but a glance around revealed that he was alone with Rin, who hadn't said anything.

It was probably just his imagination, he decided, or else it might just have been a remnant of memory carried by the sword from its time in Saber's hands.

"You mean that you really didn't know?" Rin asked. She sighed and Shirou turned around to see her head hung resignedly. "You're really hopeless, Emiya. Only you could accidentally earn the allegiance of a Noble Phantasm."

"I think I'm supposed to be insulted," Shirou mused as he sat back down. He figured that he would have been surprised, but so many strange things had happened the first time around that nothing as tame and nonlethal as owning a Noble Phantasm could really faze him. As Rin had so often told him, he was the impossible Master. Things that shouldn't be possible happened around and to him routinely.

Besides, it wasn't actually a Noble Phantasm. Noble Phantasms were recreations of legendary weapons. They were crystallizations of legends and heroes. The sword in his hand was the original, so it was nothing more than a very powerful Mystic Code.

He placed Caliburn beside him and looked back at Rin. She gave him a coy little smile.

"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about," she declared airily. She took another sip from her tea, then set the cup back down. "So, Emiya, what's your plan of attack?"

"You mean in the Grail War," Shirou clarified. He frowned. "I don't really have one," he admitted reluctantly. "The only thing I want to do in this war is prevent the kind of tragedy that occurred ten years ago. Other than that, I haven't really come up with anything yet. I couldn't really care about the Holy Grail one way or the other."

"I knew you'd say that," Rin sighed. "Listen up, Emiya. If Saber hears that, she'll kill you."

Shirou almost laughed — almost. The idea of Saber killing him just because he had no interest in the Grail was ridiculous. She was too much of a knight to do that sort of thing, and he knew her too well to actually believe Rin this time. Last time, he hadn't been so sure.

"Did you really think Servants did this without _any_ ulterior motives?" Rin demanded sharply. "It isn't just the Masters who get their wish granted by the Grail. The Servants do, too, remember? It's the only reason many of them actually become Servants. Why else would they actually answer the Masters' summons? They each have something they want very dearly for the Grail to fulfill."

She pointed a finger at him, and he was sure that if the table hadn't been in the way, she would be jabbing him in the chest with that finger.

"For that wish, the Servants will do nearly anything, even your Saber and my Archer!" she declared vehemently. "If you let them all run around unchecked, then many innocent people are going to die!"

She huffed and leaned back into her seat, then looked away at some distant thing only she could see.

"Servants use Mana as fuel. The more Mana they have, the closer they are to being as strong as they were when they were alive," she explained. Shirou didn't dare interrupt her, even though he already knew all of this, including what she would say next. "Servants are spiritual entities, remember? Eating another person's soul can be a form of sustenance for them. What I'm trying to tell you is that some Masters will force their Servants to eat innocent people's souls just to increase their magical power!"

Shirou grimaced, but latched onto one word in particular.

"You said that some Masters will _force_ their Servants to eat human souls," Shirou began. "Doesn't that kind of imply that Servants wouldn't do it of their own free will? I mean, I get that some less scrupulous Servants would do it anyway, but I don't think someone like Saber would ever do it without being forced with a Command Seal."

Rin frowned.

"I guess so," she conceded. "But what makes you so sure that Saber wouldn't feed on human souls unless commanded? Even knights like her can be swayed by the prospect of something as powerful as the Grail."

Shirou glanced nervously in the direction of the dojo. If he remembered correctly, then that's where Saber would be at this time.

"I think," he started slowly, "that I've figured out Saber's real name. She's —"

"King Arthur, right?" Rin interjected lazily. Shirou's mouth flapped open, but nothing came out. Rin rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't be so surprised. The way she reacted to that sword you summoned was very telling. Caliburn was the Sword in the Stone that chose the rightful King of Britain, so it was pretty easy to guess when she called it hers last night."

Shirou's mouth snapped closed with an audible click. "You weren't planning on telling me, were you?" he accused.

"Nope," she admitted shamelessly. "You can't keep a secret to save your life, Emiya. It was better that you didn't know, so that you couldn't accidentally tell the other Masters. Still, I guess it doesn't matter, anyway. King Arthur never really had any weaknesses. The only reason he — or she, I suppose — died was because of Lancelot and Mordred's betrayal. There is no specific Noble Phantasm or special tactic that can defeat Saber, not by capitalizing on some weakness she had in her legend, at least."

That actually made sense, Shirou thought.

"Yeah," he mused. "I guess it's the same as with Berserker, isn't it? It doesn't matter that we know he's Heracles. There isn't any real weakness he had in his legend that we can exploit to beat him."

Rin hummed an agreement.

"Still," she said, "you shouldn't go about advertising who Saber is, either. She might not have any weakness to exploit, but anyone who knows her identity can plan for her strengths so that it wouldn't make a difference."

She frowned at him.

"You still haven't answered my question," she pointed out. "What makes you think that Saber, King Arthur, wouldn't eat the souls of innocent people in exchange for a boost in power?"

It was a ridiculous suggestion, that Saber would eat an innocent person's soul, and Shirou, who knew that best of all, who knew Saber best of all, was rightly and properly offended on her behalf.

"Of course I didn't answer it, because it was a stupid question anyway!" Shirou said hotly. "Saber's just not that kind of person, alright? Besides, good kings are supposed to sacrifice of themselves for the sake of the nation, right? If you can't call King Arthur a good king, then who can you?"

Rin gave a little roll of her eyes, like he was being naïve and stupid, but didn't argue back.

"Fine, fine, you win," she said lightly. "But you should probably talk to her about it anyway, just to make sure."

She lifted the teapot to pour more tea, but it was empty, so she stood and went to the kitchen to refill it.

"So, what are you going to do, then, Emiya?" she called over her shoulder. He heard the hiss of steam as she filled the pot with more hot water. "Are you just going to sit back and watch, no matter how vile the other Masters get?"

"Of course not," Shirou said. "If they do something horrible, I'll stop them. But right now, I can't go out looking for them or anything like that, not with the condition Saber's in. Even when she gets better, I'm still not really sure exactly how to handle this whole thing. For now, I guess I'll just go about my normal, everyday life."

More than simply following the path of the timeline, the fact of the matter was that he hadn't had enough time to sit down and make a plan to deal with everything. He'd need to figure out what he was going to do about the things he knew before he tried to tackle the War itself.

"You can't be serious," Rin told him as she sat back down. She poured another cup of tea. "You intend to walk around and go to school without Saber, like you're not a Master or anything? Emiya, that's like painting a giant target on your back!"

"Well, it's not like I'd be defenseless!" Shirou shot back. "I mean, you'll still be around and Archer will be there, too. Besides, won't most Masters think twice if they see another Master strolling around without his Servant? They'll think it's either a trap, or that I'm so confident in my own abilities that I'm not worried about having to confront a Servant alone."

"That's…actually pretty well thought out," Rin admitted grudgingly. "But it's still stupid. Any Master worth their salt knows that a normal human being doesn't stand a chance against a Servant."

"Then what about Caliburn?" Shirou asked pointedly. He gestured to the sword lying beside him. "If I carried this around, then even if I _am_ attacked, a single blow from Caliburn would either beat the Servant outright, or make them reconsider attacking me."

"That idea actually has some merit. You'd have some trouble lugging it around with you everywhere, but I'll see if I can't cook something up," Rin said thoughtfully. "But still! You used Caliburn once last night, and you passed out less than a minute afterwards! Even the stupidest of Masters wouldn't pass up killing you while you were unconscious!"

"Well, that's what you're there for, isn't it?" Shirou asked. "I mean, with the two of us working together, wouldn't it be kind of stupid for them to attack us? The only one we'd really have to worry about is Illya and Berserker."

She gave a disappointed shake of her head.

"You just don't get it," Rin lamented with a sigh. "Emiya, we're _enemies_. We're both Masters. I'm only here because you saved my life last night, and I'd be bogged down with guilt if I just let you go on oblivious to what you've gotten yourself into. Even then, I never once forgot that you and I are pitted against each other. One way or another, we're on opposite sides here, Emiya. We're enemies."

Shirou's gut wrenched. He hadn't thought about it, because he'd been used to being on the same side as Rin and having her as an ally. He was so used to having Rin bunking in the house and being there for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It was hard to imagine her as an enemy again, but now that he actually had to think about it, he remembered that they hadn't been actual allies until they'd been forced to confront Shinji and Rider's Blood Fort.

"I see," he said numbly. "Then I guess…even if I asked you to team up with me, at least until we've beaten Berserker…you'd say no, wouldn't you?"

Rin looked at him and blinked, then let out another sigh. "Geez," she said theatrically, "you're really hopeless, aren't you? All right, Emiya, if you're that worried about everything, then I suppose you and I could form an alliance of sorts for the time being. Let me go get the necessities, then I'll be back to pick out a room, all right? See you in a few hours."

Then she stood and left. Shirou felt railroaded. He blinked owlishly after her and realized belatedly that manipulating him into asking her for an alliance had been Rin's plan the entire time. He didn't understand why she couldn't have asked. He didn't understand why it'd been so important to her for him to be the one to suggest a partnership.

All he understood was that he'd just been played. Like a fiddle.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Shirou found Saber exactly where he remembered she'd be: in the dojo. He stepped in through the door, opened his mouth to greet her, and was struck silent again. He was being reminded, again and again, it seemed, just how beautiful she was. It was easy not to notice in the heat of battle when he was standing beside her, or when he'd just spent the entire day with her.

But in the quiet of the dojo, with the morning sunlight illuminating her features just so, she was breathtaking. It was also heartbreaking. It was in moments such as these when he was also made keenly aware of the fact that Saber did not belong in his time, in this place with him. No matter what he said or did, no matter how deeply in love they fell, it was inevitable that she would return home and leave him to live his life without her.

"Good morning, Shirou," she said suddenly, and her quiet voice snapped him from his trance as her verdant green eyes opened slowly to meet his. "I see that you are up and around."

"Good morning, Saber," he replied in kind.

"It seems you've recovered your energy," she continued in the same tone. "That is good. There is much that we must speak of this morning, and it would not do for you to fall asleep in the middle of our discussion. Specifically, I would like to talk to you about what you did last night."

"Sure," Shirou said easily. "What's on your mind?"

She stood suddenly and walked towards him until he could have reached out and hugged her, and she stared up into his eyes seriously. It was difficult to tell what the expression on her face meant with the first glance, but it was more along the lines of her quiet anger and frustration than the intense battle calm that marked her face during combat.

He was about to be scolded.

"The first matter I would like to address is your foolish decision to stand in front of the blow meant for me," she said. "Combat is my area of expertise, and so I would prefer it if you would focus on the areas in which _you_ excel. As my Master, there was no need for you to try to protect me. There is nothing to be gained from it."

Shirou felt indignation rise in his belly, not at her, but at the fact that she placed so little value on herself.

"Wait," he said. "You're telling me that I actually need a reason to help someone? That I should need a reason to save someone's life? Well, I don't! I'm gonna save you if I damn well want to, even if you don't want me to!"

He abruptly turned away from the look of confused surprise that dawned on her face, because it reminded him of that moment when she'd lied in the middle of the street, broken and defeated, during their first fight with Gilgamesh.

"You're not going to convince me that your life isn't worth anything, let alone that I shouldn't save you when you need help," he told her obstinately. "So, let's just move on, okay?"

There was a moment of silence.

"Yes, I see," she replied slowly. "I suppose that there is no point in trying to sway you with words, not if you are as stubborn as I have come to believe. Rather, perhaps you might change your mind later on, after you've suffered an injury for your foolishness."

Shirou didn't think that was particularly likely.

"So," he began, "I guess I should just keep calling you Saber, then?"

It was a horrible attempt at changing the subject, but Saber didn't seem to mind.

"Yes, that would be best," she said. "However, I believe that you should know my true identity, so that you may best make use of my skills in the coming conflicts. I am —"

"King Arthur, right?" Shirou interjected calmly. Surprise flickered across her face again.

"Yes, although I was going to say 'Arturia Pendragon," she answered. She frowned. "I suppose that Rin was the one who told you? I'm surprised. I would have thought that she would prefer to keep such an advantage to herself."

"Something like that," Shirou said. "She and I were having a conversation earlier, and — wait, you already knew that Rin knew?"

A flash of guilt crossed Saber's face.

"Yes, because I am the one who told her," she admitted. "I'm sorry," she added quickly, "but Rin managed to trick me into revealing my identity to her. I thought it best that I inform you as well, so that Rin could not make use of it as an advantage against us. Otherwise, I would have preferred to keep my identity a secret."

Shirou let a resigned sigh hiss passed his lips.

"I guess she managed to get both of us," he lamented. It wasn't too surprising. Rin was a wily girl, and not the least bit concerned about manipulating people when it really suited her needs. Even when they'd become close and actually had something that could be called friendship, she'd still manipulated him. The only difference had been that she explained why.

At Saber's curious look, he told her that, "She tricked me into asking her for an alliance so that she wouldn't have to. I guess she wanted to have some sort superiority by making it seem like _I_ was the one who needed _her_ as an ally — or something like that."

Saber nodded and let out a hum of agreement.

"I see," she said. "Yes, she is quite the frightening girl. I suppose it is for the better that she is on our side, for the moment."

"Yeah," Shirou agreed. "So, is there anything else?"

"Yes, there is." Saber looked at him seriously. "Shirou, I must ask how it is you summoned my sword to your side last night. Caliburn is the Sword in the Stone the Chooses Kings, the sword that I pulled from the stone many years ago, and which was lost and destroyed during my reign. I must ask you, Shirou, how it was it appeared to you."

Shirou decided to give her the answer closest to honesty as he could.

"I've been seeing it in my dreams for a few days, now," he told her. "I needed something to fight Berserker last night, and the only thing I could think of was that sword, Caliburn, so I Projected it and used it like you would."

Saber's brow furrowed.

"But Projection magic is creating a phantasmal object with Prana," she protested. "You formed a real Caliburn, an imitation that somehow became real. That is not Projection magic."

Which was a fair point, Shirou supposed. The problem was, he knew little to nothing about magic beyond Reinforcement and some basic Alteration. Most of his Projection magic had been self-taught after Kiritsugu had passed away.

"Well, my dad never really taught me much magic," Shirou admitted. "We never really covered Projection, so most of what I know about using it is stuff I taught myself. If I'm doing something different or wrong, or if I'm doing something else entirely, like Alchemy or something, I really couldn't say for sure."

He paused and took a breath.

"All I know," he continued, "is that I Projected Caliburn the way I know how, and it should have disappeared shortly after I struck Berserker with it. The fact that it didn't means that it probably is the real Caliburn, but how that happened, I couldn't actually tell you."

"I see," she said quietly. Her brow furrowed and she looked to be thinking about something very intensely. She said nothing else.

"I could give it back to you," Shirou offered. "I mean, that gives you an advantage, doesn't it? To have another powerful Noble Phantasm in your arsenal?"

"No," Saber declared immediately. "Caliburn is the Sword that Chooses, and it appears to me that it has chosen you, Shirou. If you can find a means of carrying it with you, then it would serve you well, as it served me."

"If you're sure," Shirou hedged.

"I am," she told him. "As you just admitted, you know little magic, and so it would be best that you have every advantage we can possibly give you. That Caliburn has chosen you as its new wielder means only that you have one more weapon you can use."

She looked to the side sadly, and to herself, she added, "and perhaps that I am no longer worthy of wielding it."

Shirou knew that he was not meant to hear the last part, and so didn't comment on it.

"All right, then," Shirou said. "Since we've gotten all that out of the way, I think I should say what I didn't really have the chance to last night. If you want the Grail, I'll help you get it. If you have a wish, I understand, and I won't ask what it is, no matter how much I want to. From here on out, we're partners — even if I'm the Master and you're the Servant, I'm not going to treat you like you're someone I can just order around however I want, and I'm not going to ask you to throw your life away for my sake, no matter what you or anyone else says."

He held out his hand. "From here on out, Arturia," he said; he made a point of using her real name, as he never had before, "our destinies are intertwined. Whatever fate awaits you awaits me. My sword will be at your side from here on forward. With this, the accord between us is struck."

She spent a long moment just staring at him and his outstretched hand, and then she smiled her simple little smile and took it.

"Very well, then, Shirou," she said. "If this is your desire, then this shall be our contract."

And then, at that exact moment, Shirou's stomach let out a sudden loud, ravenous growl. Shirou felt his face flush and reached up with his now-free hand to scratch sheepishly at the back of his head.

"I see," Saber smiled. "So then, may I assume that you have yet to eat breakfast?"

"Ahaha, yeah," Shirou admitted. "Between talking with you and the conversation with Tousaka, I completely forgot about making breakfast."

"Ah," Saber nodded sagely. "Then it would be best to seek sustenance. Hunger is the enemy."

And then, just as she finished speaking, another growl rumbled into the air…from _her_ stomach.

"I guess you'd like something too, then?" Shirou asked. She nodded, and it was obvious that she was trying to retain her composure and dignity. It was ruined by the blush that had arisen in her cheeks. He tried not to laugh. "Do you mind Japanese food, then, or do you want something Western?"

"It does not matter," Saber insisted. "Food is food, and it is a necessity. Though I would prefer to eat something that tastes good, extravagance is the enemy."

"I see," Shirou said. There was a long moment of silence, and he tried to resist the urge, but Shirou found that he couldn't stop himself. It slipped out, almost of its own accord.

"We sure have a lot of enemies, don't we?"

"Yes, it seems so."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Edit 12/30/12: A lot of things have changed about the direction of this story, so the reason behind Caliburn should be cleared up by the end of chapter 10, at the latest.**

**EDIT: So, apparently, Saber's actual name is** **"**Altria Pendragon**" — who would've thought, right? Except I went and researched it, and The Wiki Was Wrong (can we make that a TV Tropes page?). "**Arturia**" is a mistranslation of the name written on her Fate/Complete Material data sheet, which means that everyone currently using "Arturia" as Saber's real name is wrong. Of course, to me, Arturia makes more sense, so I'll stick with that for the purposes of this story. Still, this isn't that big of a surprise, right? The only way that any mistranslation of this sort is ever properly corrected is if it's "officially" dubbed into English, except the closest they ever came to uttering Saber's real name during the anime was to call her "King Arthur." Good job, folks. Thanks for screwing it up for the rest of us.**

**In true FSN fashion, I've actually planned out two endings and three epilogues to this fic, all of which will be posted (we'll call this story the "King's Sword" route, I think; if you've got a better name for it, feel free to say so). There'll be a Good end and a Normal end, and then three epilogues: Good, True, and Normal. The Good and True epilogues will come from the Good end and will be very similar because they're different offshoots of the same ending. The Normal epilogue will follow the Normal end, and it'll be open enough that you could technically create a crossover sequel akin to "Hill of Swords" or "In Flight." **

_**Steel is my body and fire is my blood.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	3. Domestic Conflict

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter III: Domestic Conflict  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"I can't believe him!"

Two shirts flew across the room and landed haphazardly in her suitcase. Archer gave the mental equivalent of a wince, once and only for a moment, but outwardly retained the stoicism for which she now knew him as Rin howled indignantly. Wisely, he said nothing.

"Of all the ridiculous luck!" she screamed. She threw two more shirts and a skirt. Archer made sure he wasn't in the middle of her warpath. "It'd be one thing if I'd just used up a jewel to heal him and that was the end of it! But, oh no, he managed to summon Saber, too! Saber! _I_ wanted Saber!"

"Master," Archer began a little indignantly. She ignored him, tossed a few pairs of underwear into the suitcase, and closed it with a slam.

"I could forgive him," she said as she began packing another bag, "if it'd all stopped there! I really could! He might have summoned Saber, but hey, I managed a pretty awesome Servant, too!"

She packed up all of the important books — books on summoning, books on offensive magecraft, books on mythology and legend, the whole works — and closed the second suitcase with another slam. Archer lamented that he'd probably be the one to carry most of her stuff.

"But he's Emiya Shirou!" Rin declared sarcastically. "Unlikely? Doesn't matter. Improbable? That's not even worth consideration! _Impossible_? _No such thing_!"

"Rin," Archer said, "I really think you should calm down."

She whirled around to face him and lanced him with her worst glare.

"Do you have any idea what that bonehead managed to do?" Rin asked scathingly.

Ah, Archer thought, if only she knew. He could imagine a number of different stupid things Emiya Shirou could have done. Given that they must have had the first encounter with Berserker the previous night (too bad he'd been injured and recovering at the house), Shirou had probably thrown himself in front of Berserker's blade and gotten his stomach blown out for his trouble.

Of course, he should also still have Avalon, which meant that Rin's tirade probably had something to do with Shirou's miraculous recovery.

"I'm guessing something stupid," Archer said. It took all of his control not to smirk.

"He used Projection magic to recreate a Noble Phantasm," Rin told him with forced calm. Archer startled and felt his eyes go wide.

"_But he isn't supposed to be able to do that, yet!"_ he wanted to say.

"But wait," Rin continued with sarcastic cheer, "it gets better! After he Projected that thrice-damned Noble Phantasm, he used it on Berserker and took three of Hercules's lives — three! I didn't even know he had more than one! And when the smoke cleared and Illyasviel left, that Noble Phantasm stayed. It stayed for an hour, then two, then the whole night."

She snarled. "He managed to turn an imitation into a real Noble Phantasm! Do you get it, Archer? Emiya Shirou not only summoned Saber, the best of the seven classes, he now has a Noble Phantasm that he can use for the War!"

Archer suddenly felt dizzy. He reached out for the wall to steady himself and lifted up a hand to brush away the cold sweat that had broken out on his forehead. This wasn't supposed to be happening. Emiya Shirou was incompetent, at least during the War. Only through years of learning from Rin and harsh training did he earn the power to use Unlimited Blade Works, and it'd taken just as long to fully understand the true nature of his Tracing.

Before the War, and during the first few days, Shirou was supposed to be nothing more than a failure. He should be capable of Reinforcement and a facsimile of his unique Projection magic. Even then, he wasn't supposed to try Tracing a sword, let alone a Noble Phantasm, until the confrontation with Berserker in the Einzbern Forest.

Borderline Sorcery? That should be so far beyond him that the very thought was _laughable_.

_Get your head together_, he told himself. He took in a breath and straightened.

"Which Noble Phantasm?" he asked Rin calmly.

She frowned at him. "Caliburn, the—"

"Sword in the Stone that Chooses Kings," Archer finished wistfully. Rin eyed him strangely.

It'd been a long time since he'd used that sword. Further, it'd been a long time since he'd allowed himself to Trace it, and perhaps it was better that way. Such a magnificent weapon didn't belong in the hands of someone as cynical and negative as him. It was a weapon that represented an ideal, his ideals, and so it was no longer appropriate that he wield it. His ideals had betrayed him, and he had betrayed his ideals.

But something had changed. This Shirou had managed to earn the allegiance of the real Caliburn (which meant that it _wasn't_ Sorcery; Caliburn, Gram, and Merodach were a bit unique as Noble Phantasms, but this was still on the far edges of the possible), a powerful Noble Phantasm that, at full power, could take at least seven of Berserker's lives in one blow. Perhaps this Shirou would be strong enough, and that strength alone would be enough to —

No. No matter what, he had to stick to his goal. If he was going to free himself from the wretched existence of a Counter Guardian, then he couldn't let a few changes stop him. He had to keep going forward.

"Anyway," Rin went back to packing, "we're teaming up with Shirou and Saber for now. When we've beaten Berserker…well, we'll cross that bridge when we get there. For now, though, we'll stay at Shirou's house. It'll make strategizing and planning a whole lot easier, and the Emiya compound has a surprisingly useful bounded field."

Archer frowned.

"I don't really think we need his help," he said, "but if you think it's best, Rin, then I guess we'll go."

But a niggling thought lingered in the back of Archer's head.

Caliburn, as a Noble Phantasm, was an existence that neither Archer nor Shirou had ever seen. In their dreams, they'd seen the prototype, the original sword crafted by Merlin with power to match a Noble Phantasm. From those dreams, its existence had been carved into the Blade Works, and so its power, its memories, and everything that made it up were all accessible.

It was not outside the realm of possibility that Shirou could progress to his unique Projection magic earlier than usual — the infinite web of parallel worlds meant that it _could_ happen — but achieving a state of his Projection that allowed the object he created to maintain manifestation?

Even _Archer_ didn't enjoy that sort of bonus, and he was a _Counter Guardian_, one of Alaya's dogs.

As a Noble Phantasm, Caliburn could achieve indefinite manifestation because it was the crystallization of a legend. As long as the history of the sword was appended (in this case, by the sword choosing a new wielder) to say that it belonged to "Emiya Shirou," then Shirou could keep it for however long he wanted, so long as he didn't get the Counter Forces' attention.

But the original sword, Caliburn, could do no such thing. It was a Mystic Code, a very good one, but a Mystic Code nonetheless. The recreation Shirou performed using his Projection magic was nothing more than a collection of Prana given a specific shape and made real by magic. Inevitably, it would be crushed because there could be only one "real" Caliburn, and it had been lost centuries ago.

So if Shirou was truly in the possession of the Noble Phantasm Caliburn, _where had he seen it?_

And the thought that bothered Archer, the one that niggled in the back of his head and refused to leave him be, was that the only answer he could come up with meant that he could already be too late.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Hours after she had first left, Rin burst through the front door. She'd been carrying a bag in both hands, and behind her, Archer was loaded down even more: a bag in both hands and one under each arm, with an extra set of backpacks dangling from his pinky fingers. Shirou hadn't been able to stop himself from staring.

Oblivious to the look on his face (or maybe just ignoring it), she had sweetly declared that she had everything she needed and that she had already picked out a room, then gestured for Archer to follow her and walked right past Shirou and down the hall.

Dinner that night was an altogether quiet affair. After Rin had settled in and claimed a room to herself, they'd hammered out a sort of schedule — Rin and Shirou would take turns cooking dinner, and it was Shirou's turn first. So, while Rin and Saber quietly discussed plans for the War, Shirou set about making the evening meal with a teriyaki chicken dish as the main course.

Ordinarily, Shirou probably would have kept half an ear on the girls' conversation, but after they started speculating about the other Masters and how to go about finding them, he tuned them out and focused instead on the task in his hands. He had no need to guess and ponder; he already knew who the Masters were and the identity of most of the Servants.

Caster and Kuzuki would pose one of the biggest problems, but both were mostly content to lie in wait, so Shirou could probably leave them for later. The difficulty would be in finding a way to take care of the issue before Caster could kidnap Sakura (or Illya, now that he thought about it; she would fit, too) and without letting Caster's Rule Breaker get Saber. It was one thing for her to get stabbed with it by a possessed Sakura or Fuji-nee, but if Caster herself actually managed to do it…well, Shirou wasn't quite sure about the exact limits to Rule Breaker, but it was supposed to break all magecraft and magic contracts, so…

Yeah. Letting Saber get stabbed by Rule Breaker was definitely not a good idea.

Berserker would be an issue, too, but if things played out much the same as they had before, then Shirou didn't think there would be any significant problems. Even better would be if they could put off the final confrontation until Saber could safely use Excalibur; a single blast should do the trick, and if it didn't, Shirou himself could always come in with a finishing blow.

Lancer…well, Lancer was a whole different kettle of fish. At the end, he'd turned on Kirei because Kirei was partnered with Gilgamesh, but since Shirou probably wouldn't turn up at the Church again unless it was to destroy it, he'd probably have to fight Lancer again at some point (or Saber would; at this point, it was just a matter of whether or not he could raise his skills to take on a Servant — one good hit with Caliburn would be enough to take care of all but Gilgamesh and Berserker). Either way, Lancer could wait until almost the end.

Assassin guarded the Temple, so taking care of him could wait until they went to confront Caster. Since he was a pseudo-Heroic Spirit instead of a real one, Saber could beat him by herself. He wouldn't be too much trouble.

Archer…Archer depended on a whole lot of things, like whether or not Illya managed to kidnap Shirou again (now, if only he could remember exactly how she'd done it). If she did, then Archer would face Berserker and lose again, and like that, the problem was gone (he really didn't want Rin as an enemy, mostly because he couldn't think of her like one). If she didn't, though, then they would inevitably have to face each other, and he wasn't exactly sure how to beat Archer short of an Excalibur blast to the face.

Gilgamesh would definitely be the biggest problem. Excalibur alone wasn't enough to beat him, but Shirou had no way of returning Avalon to Saber without raising some sort of suspicion — really, he shouldn't know about it at all until that moment in the street against Gilgamesh, but he very dearly wanted to avoid that very same moment, because that moment was one of the worst moments of the Grail War. That was the moment where Saber had been completely and utterly beaten, and his heart twisted at the very memory of the broken and confused look that had been on her face that night, of her shredded armor and clothes and her blood splattered all over the pavement.

So he had to come up with a way to beat Gilgamesh, a weapon or something that would give Shirou an edge. Caliburn wouldn't be enough — Gilgamesh had already proven that. He would have to find something else, something stronger, something that Gilgamesh didn't have a previous version of. As long as it was enough to force a retreat, then it didn't matter whether it was enough to actually beat him.

For that, Shirou was going to have to steal some books from Rin. He had a lot of research to do.

That left Rider and Shinji.

Shinji would be easy — he wasn't even a proper Magus, so he had no real magic to throw around. Rider wouldn't be much of an issue, either. Despite how powerful her Noble Phantasm was, it had nothing on Excalibur.

Now that he thought of it, though, there was something very strange about that particular pair. When Rider had been beaten, Shinji's book had burned — the book, but there had been nothing about the Command Seals. When Archer was killed by Berserker, Rin's Command Seals had nearly caused her to trip over herself. Shouldn't Shinji have been suffering, too, when Rider was killed? Nothing had happened except that the book had burned up, and the only spells Shinji had cast had been cast from the book, not from his own power. And he had never used any Command Seals, not even one.

Did that mean that someone else was Rider's real Master, and that they had handed her over to Shinji? But that didn't make any sense. The only other Magus in town aside from Kirei and Rin, at least that Shirou knew of, was…

Sakura.

That's right. Sakura was actually Rin's younger sister, and a Magus in her own right. But that couldn't be. Kuzuki was Caster's Master, even though he wasn't a Magus, so it must have been possible for anyone to summon a Servant, as long as they were also a Master.

No, that was wrong. Even if a normal person managed to summon a Servant, they needed a magic circle first. Rin had made hers somehow, Illya would've made hers easily (or had maids or something to do it for her), and Shirou's had formed on its own out of an old, faded circle that'd been carved into the floor of the shed. And hadn't Ilya once said that Caster had killed her original Master shortly after being summoned? So Kuzuki hadn't even summoned Medea in the first place.

"Tousaka," he began. He set the food on the table distractedly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Something the matter, Shirou?" she asked nonchalantly. "What? Was there something you didn't understand about our discussion?"

"Well, no," he said as sat down. He broke his chopsticks apart, but frowned instead of eating. "It's just…You mentioned something about the Einzbern. They're one of those old Magus families, right? Are there any other families like that around here?"

"Well, aside from the Einzbern, there's my family, the Tousaka," Rin started. She took a bite from her plate and paused a moment as her eyes went wide and she looked down at what she'd just eaten. The faintest hint of red appeared on her cheeks, and Shirou was not too humble to give himself the mental equivalent of a pat on the back.

"Anyway," she continued. She tried to sound as though the taste of her meal hadn't distracted her for that moment, but failed utterly. If there was one thing Shirou knew he could do better than Rin, it was cook. "Aside from the Einzbern and Tousaka, there's also the Makiri family" — Shirou breathed an inaudible sigh of relief and started eating; that meant that Shinji would have gotten Rider from someone else, then, but not Sakura — "or, as they're called nowadays, the Matou. But that's really about it, as far as Magus families in Fuyuki go."

Shirou froze. "Then," he began hesitantly; he almost didn't want to know the answer, "Sakura and Shinji…?"

"If it were any other Magus family, then yes," Rin shrugged. "But the Matou line has been practically dormant for the past couple generations. Normally, the Matou would probably have a Master for the Grail War, but that loser, Shinji, is so pathetic that even if he was a Master, he wouldn't be a very good one."

She looked up at him and took another bite, chewed slowly, then swallowed.

"That's why you were asking, right?" it was more a statement than a question. "You wanted to know if one of them could be a Master?"

"Something like that," Shirou admitted vaguely. Rin shrugged and started eating again.

So that meant that Sakura _could_ be Rider's "true Master." In fact, though Shirou didn't like to admit it, it made the most sense that way. Shinji was a bit of a bully and a braggart, but the only one he could actually force to surrender their Servant would be Sakura. Any other Master he tried it on would simply sic their Servant on him, either because he dared to try or to eliminate an unnecessary witness.

But wait. For how much of a bastard he could be, Shinji was also rather popular with most of the girls in his class. Wasn't it possible, then, that one of them was a Master and had just given him her Servant in hopes of winning his affections (or something like that)?

Damn it. This was getting him nowhere.

"Anyway," Rin said between bites, "we can't really do too much at the moment. We have no idea who the other Masters are or where they are, with the exception of Berserker and Illyasviel. For now, the only thing we can do is wait for one of the other Masters to take the initiative, but we'll still have to be careful. Go through life as though you aren't a Master, hide your Command Seals, come home before dark, and avoid places where you could be ambushed."

"Right," Shirou nodded. "Sounds easy enough."

"One more thing, and this is really important, so you can't forget it," Rin warned sternly. "Make sure to take Saber with you wherever you can."

Shirou stopped halfway through another nod and frowned. He glanced at Saber. This problem again. There was no way he could take her to school — even having her stay on top of the roof and standing there all day would be incredibly risky. "I don't think that's going to work out."

Saber's face quickly took on a look of frustration. Rin scowled for a moment, then her eyes widened and her mouth formed into a little 'o.' Good. She understood, at least. As she had herself taken on enormous responsibilities for maintaining the appearance of normalcy, despite the things necessary to the life of a first-rate Magus, she would easily realize that him skipping school would be very suspicious.

"Shirou, I must object," Saber said a little heatedly. "I am a Servant, and my duty is to protect you throughout this Grail War. I can't do that if you don't allow me to accompany you about your daily life."

"No," Rin interjected, and Saber turned to her to voice her disagreement, but Rin plowed on, "I agree with Shirou on this one. You can't take on spirit form, Saber, so asking you to follow him to school just wouldn't work."

Saber looked back at Shirou.

"You're a student, then?" she asked. Shirou nodded. She frowned and fidgeted a little. "And you must go to school? You can't simply stay home?"

Shirou grinned sheepishly and gave a nervous little laugh. Oh, if only it were that simple.

"I'm afraid not," he told her. "It'd be one thing if it were just up to me, but, well…" Fuji-nee's furious face flashed in front of his mind's eye. "I don't think my guardian would be too happy about it."

Saber closed her eyes and bowed her head in a short nod. Her frown deepened just the slightest. "I see."

"Don't worry too much," Rin said easily. "If it comes down to it, I'll be there to lend him a hand, and Archer will be there in spirit form. He might not have healed enough for a full on battle, but he should be good enough to hold another Servant off long enough for us to retreat. If it becomes absolutely necessary, then Shirou could just summon you with a Command Seal — as a last resort, of course."

"I suppose that is the best I could hope for, given this situation," Saber said resignedly. "In that case, Rin, I entrust my Master's wellbeing to you. Please take care of him."

"Of course," Rin smirked. "We're allies, after all."

And now that that concern was out of the way…

"Rin, there's something else I wanted to ask you about."

"Oh?" she arched an eyebrow. "Well, what is it, Shirou? Was there something you needed?"

Shirou reminded himself of the first rule of being a Magus: to be a Magus is to walk with death.

"I wanted to do some research — you know, to better prepare myself for the War," he said. "I've been thinking about it since this morning, and, well, could I borrow a couple of books on Summoning and the Grail System?"

Her other eyebrow rose to join its twin.

"You realize what you're asking," Rin declared flatly. It was only half a question. "I mean, there's a reason why Magi keep their family craft closely guarded, and why a Magus's workshop is so heavily defended. Magi don't share information, not very often, at least."

And that was the crux of the matter: whether or not Rin would be insulted when he asked her to basically give away information that belonged to her by birthright. It was a lot nicer than simply breaking into her room or her workshop and stealing whatever he needed, but the spirit was very similar.

"I do," he said resolutely. "But if I want to be of any use in this Grail War, then I need to know as much as you did going into it. I need to know how to make a proper contract, how the summoning works, and that sort of thing. It's not fair to Saber that she has to put up with the consequences of a botched summoning if there's something I can do to fix it, and if I make the wrong mistake at the wrong time, it could get you or her killed."

Rin snorted.

"It figures," she said sardonically. "You ask the one question that most Magi would find terribly invasive and you consider everyone's concerns but your own. I'm beginning to notice a trend here, Shirou."

"I'm sorry," Shirou apologized shamelessly. "I'm only doing what makes sense to me."

After all, if a sword was dull, then you sharpened it.

And to sharpen a dull sword, you needed a whetstone.

"Very well, then," Rin shrugged. "I'm trusting you, though, Shirou. Most of the books I have that involve the Grail System are handwritten accounts. Duplicating their contents will be a difficult endeavor, one that'll take me until at least midnight, and I'll have to sacrifice a few of my blank research journals for the job, so I'm expecting you to take good care of them."

She stood.

"With that in mind, I should probably go get started," she proclaimed. "So if there's nothing else, Shirou, I'm going to head to my room. I'll get your books to you tomorrow."

"No, that was all, thank you," Shirou told her politely. "Good night, Tousaka."

She gave a curt nod and left.

Saber seemed to take this as her cue.

"Speaking of rooms," she began. "Shirou, I must discuss with you the issue of my accommodations."

Right, she'd slept in the dojo last night, hadn't she?

"Have you picked out a room?" Shirou asked neutrally.

"That is why I wish to speak with you," she revealed. "Shirou, last night was an exception. From now on, I must maintain a close proximity to you at all times I am able, especially at night, when we are most vulnerable. To accomplish this, I must stay with you in your room."

Uh oh.

_Uh oh_. _This_ conversation. Why hadn't he thought of it before?

"Saber," Shirou started.

"Still," Saber went on, "it would convey a far greater advantage for us if I slept beside you, so that I may react to the slightest threat. It allows me to protect you far better than simply sleeping across the room from you."

"Saber," Shirou tried again.

"So if you have no further responsibilities or tasks to attend to this evening, I would like you to show me to your room so that we may retire," she finished. "When you are not in combat, it is best to seek sleep whenever you can," she added sagely.

"Saber, I —" Shirou sighed and gave up. He looked down the empty plates sitting innocently on the table. He'd only made enough food for the three of them, so nothing had been wasted or left over.

And an idea suddenly popped into his head.

"Give me a hand with these dishes," he said finally.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"So, this is your room, Shirou?"

"Yes," Shirou said a little nervously. "It's not much, I know, but the only thing I really use it for is sleeping, so there was never any reason to put up decorations or anything like that."

It was a very sparse room, and Shirou had never been so keenly aware of it than he was right then, with Saber looking into it and scrutinizing the floor, ceiling, and walls for imperfections or openings. There were no posters or photos, no knickknacks or souvenirs, no gadgets or gizmos, no trophies or medals, nor even so much as a pile of dirty clothes. His room was almost entirely bare, save for a single purple cushion on which to sit and a modest desk against the far wall, in front of which the cushion had been placed strategically.

"No, it's fine," Saber said softly. "Normally, a person's room is a reflection of their character, and yet, for you, Shirou, this is somehow…appropriate."

The warmth in her voice told Shirou that it was meant as a compliment, but he couldn't help the thought that if Rin were to say the exact same thing, it would've been sarcastic and sardonic and just a little bit mocking.

"_Appropriate," _she would have said, _"for an inept Magus without a sense of self or self-preservation."_

Still, none of that changed the fact that he was actually going to do it this time. Before, he'd threatened use of a Command Seal to keep Saber from staying in the same room as him. This time through, he was actually going to let her stay in his room. No, more than that, this time through, he was going to let her stay in his bed with him.

A part of him was violently against the idea because it was improper for a man to stay in the same room as a woman who was not either his wife or a member of his family, and it was even worse if he stayed in the same bed. Perhaps it was an old fashioned state of mind, but it was Shirou's, whether or not it was old fashioned.

"If it was anybody else, I would have just said no," Shirou told her. "I mean, it isn't right for a man to stay in the same room as a woman he's not married to, and it's even worse for him to share his bed."

Saber turned to him and opened her mouth, no doubt to start scolding him for treating her like a person rather than a weapon. She was a Servant, she would say. For all intents and purposes, she was nothing more than a sword to be wielded, and so he shouldn't treat her like a human being.

"I must stay close to you at all times," she started. She'd already given him part of this argument before, when she'd first requested to share his bed. "If an enemy were to attack in the middle of the night, then you would be defenseless. I'm your Servant, Shirou, and it's my duty to protect my Master from any threat —"

"But I trust you," he cut her off. "I'll admit, I'm a bit uncomfortable with the idea. But if we're going to be partners during this Grail War, then I have to trust you. I have to have faith in you. I have to believe in you. So I'm going to let you stay with me in my room, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me, because you think it's necessary."

Her mouth closed and her expression softened.

"Thank you for understanding, Shirou," she said quietly.

For a moment, Shirou felt guilty that he'd lied to her, and then he'd shoved the guilt away and reminded himself that he had to enjoy the time he spent with her as much as he could. At the end of the War, she'd leave again. It didn't matter what he did, she couldn't stay. She didn't belong in this time and this place.

The reason Shirou was letting Saber stay in his room and in his bed was singularly selfish. It was the most selfish thing Shirou had ever done, of that he was almost positive. It wasn't simply because he trusted her or because he believed in her or any of that other stuff he'd said. The simple fact of the matter was that Shirou was utilizing every weapon he could to win her heart a second time.

It may have been underhanded and sneaky, but Shirou figured that physical closeness, such as sharing a bed, would make establishing an emotional closeness much easier.

He was not proud of himself or his deception. He was not proud of the fact that he was taking advantage of Saber's suggestion in order to further his own goals. Even though he wasn't proud, he couldn't find it in him to be ashamed. When he looked inside himself, when he sought out his most honest feelings regarding the issue, he could find only stony determination.

"Come on," he said. "Let's get to bed. I've got to get up for school tomorrow, so standing here staring at the wall won't do me any good."

A faint smile crossed Saber's lips, then it was gone.

"Very well, then."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Shirou woke abruptly the next morning. There was no slow, steady rise to consciousness. One moment, he was fast asleep, and the next, he simply wasn't.

Nonetheless, the lingering morning grogginess dulled his senses enough that it took him a moment to remember exactly where he was and feel exactly who was in bed next to him. A moment after that, he realized exactly what sort of position he was in with that person, and a moment after that, he felt the normal morning stiffness.

Shirou hoped desperately that Saber wouldn't wake up before he managed to get himself loose, because there were certain things he definitely didn't want to try explaining, and the one that stuck out in his mind foremost was his arms around her waist and his left leg trapped between her calves.

That was not to say that he didn't enjoy it. There was something incredibly satisfying in waking up next to another warm, human body, especially when that body happened to be the girl with whom you'd fallen in love. It was nothing like that night in the abandoned Einzbern mansion, with a cold draft and ivy growing up the walls, with the fear of Berserker and Illya dogging their sleep. To wake up next to Saber, with her cradled in his arms and sleeping more peacefully than he had ever seen before, was the most beautiful thing he had ever had the chance to experience.

But now was not the time to be thinking of that.

Slowly, carefully, he pulled back away from her and gently unwound his arms, making sure not to pull his right arm free too quickly lest the sudden movement jolt her awake. Then, with snakelike grace, he slid his leg out from where it had been tangled with hers and cautiously inched away. She didn't so much as twitch. Shirou breathed a sigh of relief and stood to stretch out all the kinks.

After his spine had let out a few satisfying pops, Shirou gave one last glance at Saber, who slept on, and quietly crept out of the room and down the hall to the bathroom. He did his normal routine — bathed, washed his face, and brushed his teeth — and then, feeling refreshed, he strode to the kitchen and started preparing breakfast.

A few minutes later, there was a series of slow thumps thudding along the floor. Shirou didn't have to look up to investigate. He already knew exactly what and who was causing the noise.

"Morning, Tousaka," he called over his shoulder.

Rin mumbled something back, so Shirou turned to her and took in her disheveled state and bleary eyes. She had one hand shielding her face from the light and she was slumped over like something straight out of a zombie movie. It was a miracle she had even managed to put her school uniform on.

"Not a morning person?" he asked, even though he already knew the answer. Morning was the very anathema to Tousaka Rin, a fact that one needed only a single morning with her to discover.

"No, no, I'm alright," she said groggily. "I'll wake up when I wash my face…Uh…how do I get to the bathroom from here?"

"Take that hallway," Shirou gestured absently with one hand. "There's a bathroom by the entrance if you're just going to wash your face."

"Oh yeah," she murmured. Her slow, thumping footsteps started moving away. "There was one there, wasn't there?"

Shirou hummed noncommittally and went back to cooking, and his mind had just started to wander towards Saber, who was still asleep, when the chiming of a bell announced that he had a visitor.

"Shirou?" Rin called from the hallway. "Is there someone here?"

Well, given the time of day and the date…Yeah, Shirou thought, there were only two people it could be, and Fuji-nee was never that early.

"Don't worry about it!" he called as he set his cooking utensils down. He fumbled with the ties of his apron. "It'll just be Sakura! She always comes over about this time!"

Of course, Sakura had a spare key, so she could have just come in by herself, but no matter how many times he told her that, she always rang the bell and waited to be let in. She was polite almost to a fault, and that was one of the things he cherished about her. She was like a member of the family.

A realization suddenly sparked to life in Shirou's brain and he flung the apron off as he dashed for the hallway and the door that lay beyond it. He had to get there first.

Rin could be both incredibly polite and as subtle as a hammer in the same five words. She also liked to take things to the extreme, as evidenced by her initial methods of training him the first time through (and being told to practice Reinforcement on a couple dozen lamps until he could do so without breaking them was a prime example).

It was for that reason that he couldn't let her answer the door, not until he'd come up with an explanation for Sakura. If he let Rin handle it, she was likely to do something that he would later regret, and he'd have to try to clean up the biohazard that was left behind.

But he was too late. By the time he had reached the entrance, Rin stood there smiling her fake little smile in front of a surprised Sakura, whose mouth had fallen open and was moving wordlessly.

"Good morning, Matou-san," Rin said pleasantly. "Are you surprised to see me here?"

"Tousaka…senpai," Sakura muttered softly. Her face asked why, and her hands seemed to rise of their own accord to clasp themselves over her heart. "Senpai…what is this?"

"Sorry," Shirou began. "So much stuff has happened in the past few days that I hadn't realized I forgot to tell you about this. It's a bit of a long story, though—"

"It's not long," Rin cut in. "It's simple. I'm just staying over here."

Sakura looked stricken. "Senpai, is this true?"

"What she means is…" Crap. Shirou searched his brain. What was the excuse Rin had used the first time around? Something about her house…? "That is to say, Tousaka's house is…" Renovations! That was it! "…it's undergoing some renovations."

It took Rin only a moment to catch on. "Originally, I was just going to stay at a hotel, but Shirou here was kind enough to offer me a room."

"It was the least I could do," Shirou forced his way in. "After all, I already had an unexpected guest staying here. What was one more person, especially when I had more than enough room?"

Rin's stance changed to haughty and superior. Shirou recognized it immediately, and tried to think of something to head her off with so that he could prevent an argument, but nothing came.

"Still," Rin said coolly, "you understand what this means, don't you, Matou-san?"

Sakura frowned. "Understand what?"

Rin smiled thinly.

"It seems you've been taking care of Shirou for a while now," she said, "but that's no longer necessary. You should stop coming here. It would just make things too crowded, and it'd be a bother to Shirou and I."

There was a moment of silence. Sakura looked down, and, for a few seconds, said nothing.

"I don't understand," she said suddenly. Her voice was small and quiet, but very, very clear.

Rin's face morphed at once into an expression of surprise. "Wh-what?"

"I said," Sakura declared firmly, "I don't understand what you're talking about, Tousaka-senpai."

Indignation replaced the surprise. "H-hey, Sakura!"

"Excuse me," Sakura said calmly. She brushed past Rin and made her way into the hallway. "Senpai, I'll be using the kitchen."

"Actually," Shirou tried to call out after her, "I've already started breakfast, so…yeah."

She said nothing back.

"That was crazy," he commented. "Sakura's usually so much mellower. You must have really upset her for her to have snapped at you like that."

Sakura's rare rages were frightening — more than anything, what was so frightening was that someone could make as mellow and gentle a person as Sakura angry.

"The chances of this place becoming a battlefield are incredibly high," Rin explained. "All I was trying to do was keep her out of harm's way. I was trying to _warn_ her that it's best to avoid this place."

"I don't think you did a very good job," Shirou told her. "To me, it seemed more like you were just being mean. Just an honest opinion," he added hastily when she leveled a glare his way.

"Anyway," Rin segued, "does she come here only in the mornings, or in the evenings, too?"

"She's usually here for breakfast, but not so much for dinner," Shirou explained.

Rin sighed. "It'll be every day, now," she lamented.

"Yep," Shirou agreed, "and it's all your fault."

Rin glared.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"This is Saber," Shirou explained as Sakura began serving breakfast. He gestured to Saber, who sat politely across from him and next to Rin. "She's…an associate of Kiritsugu's from abroad. She'll be staying here for a few weeks while she finishes her business."

"It's nice to meet you, Sakura," Saber said kindly.

"Ah! It's nice to meet you, too, Saber-san," Sakura smiled back.

"So," Shirou said, "with introductions out of the way…" he picked up his chopsticks and ignored the niggling in the back of his mind that said something was missing, "let's eat!"

"Itadakimasu," they all murmured together.

Shirou reached down to start eating, but paused. The niggling had grown stronger. He couldn't help the thought that there was something missing.

"Senpai," Sakura began worriedly, "is something wrong?"

"No," he reassured her with a smile, "I just can't help thinking that there's something that I've forgotten about, that's all."

The front door suddenly slammed open. "SHIROU!" a voice called loudly. There were several loud thumps, then a familiar brown-haired figure was standing in the doorway smiling brightly. "FOOD!"

Oh. _That's_ what he'd forgotten.

"Fuji-nee," Shirou said flatly. This wouldn't end well, he just knew it.

"Good morning, Sensei," Sakura greeted brightly.

There was no response. Several moments passed. Shirou's muscles tensed as every fight or flight instinct in his body abruptly surged to life.

"SHIROU!" Fuji-nee roared. The Tiger's hackles raised. "WHAT ARE ALL THESE _GIRLS_ DOING HERE? WHAT KIND OF PERVERTED SITCOM ARE YOU TRYING TO PLAY, HERE?"

"Now, hold on a second, Fuji-nee," Shirou held his hands up in surrender. "There's an explanation for all of this, I promise!"

"SHIROU!" as though from thin air, Fuji-nee produced a wooden shinai. "UNFORGIVEBABLE!"

And she tried to bring it down on his head. Almost faster than he could see, however, Saber had stood and her hand shot out. With so little effort that it was almost scary, she plucked the shinai straight out of Fuji-nee's hands.

A moment later, Fuji-nee completed her swing empty-handed.

"Sensei," Sakura murmured worriedly. Fuji-nee looked nonplussed. Her hands curled around thin air, then her eyes went wide. She looked around, only to find Saber's green eyes boring into her.

"I would appreciate it very much," Saber said evenly, "if you would refrain from striking Shirou unnecessarily, especially as he was about to explain why it is Rin and I are boarding at his house."

"Y-you…" Fuji-nee seethed.

"Please, calm down, Fuji-nee," Shirou said. She turned her glare to him. "Really, there's a good reason why they're here."

"Start talking," she ground out. "And then _I'll_ decide if the reason's good enough!"

"Look, Saber's an old family friend," Shirou explained. "She's an associate of Kiritsugu's, and she's in town on some business, so I let her stay here until it's done."

"Yes," Saber jumped in, "there are some things Kiritsugu requested I do in town, and Shirou was kind enough to offer me board until I've completed them."

"Fine!" Fuji-nee growled. She pointed at Rin, who was still eating quietly. "That doesn't explain why you've got a female student here, Shirou! Saber is one thing, because it's Kiritsugu, and that's the way Kiritsugu was, but I can't allow a male and female student to live together!"

"It's really quite simple, Fujimura-sensei," Rin said smoothly. She plastered on her fake smile. "My house is undergoing complete renovation, you see, and I was originally going to board at a hotel for the duration, but when he heard about my problem, Shirou here was kind enough to offer me a room so I didn't have to waste money."

Fuji-nee deflated.

"That _does_ sound like something Shirou would do," she murmured dejectedly. She groaned, then seemed to gather her second wind. "But still! Isn't there a problem? You're a pretty girl, and Shirou's a guy! There's all sorts of things you two could get up to together alone! So many mistakes you could make!"

Shirou felt his face go red. She thought that he…and _Rin_…?

"But Saber'll be here, too," he pointed out.

"That's even worse!"

Shirou sputtered. Just what kind of things did she think the three of them would get up to?

"There won't be any mistakes," Rin said clearly. "My room is in the outbuilding, and Shirou's is the room by the shed. There shouldn't be any problems with that much distance between us." She gave Fuji-nee a sly look. "Or are you saying that you don't trust Shirou?"

"Of course I trust Shirou!" Fuji-nee declared passionately. "He's an absolute gentleman!"

"Then there shouldn't be any problem," Rin said brightly, "as I trust Shirou, too."

There was a long moment of tense silence as Fuji-nee tried to come up with another argument, but nothing came. It seemed that she'd lost, well and truly. Well, it was Rin, after all. Winning an argument with Rin was even harder than winning one with Fuji-nee.

"Fine," Fuji-nee said at last, and only grudgingly. "You can stay. But I'll be keeping my eye on you two! Any funny business and you can just leave!"

Without further comment, she sat down and started eating.

From then on, breakfast was relatively peaceful.

Shirou just wished that he could believe it would last.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"You're going to have to lead, Shirou," Rin said as they left the house. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with this area, so I'll have to leave it to you to get us to school on time."

"Right," Shirou nodded simply.

Sakura stepped away from the front door and briskly into place with him and Rin. She looked rather uncomfortable.

Yeah, he remembered it'd gone something like this before, too. Even though they got along pretty well later on, during those first few days, Sakura had been rather tense around Rin. That was why, even though Sakura was a member of the Archery Club and usually went to school early with Fuji-nee, today, she would be walking with him and Rin.

"I've finished locking up the house, Senpai," she announced.

Across from him, Rin blinked.

"Hold on a second," she said incredulously. "You gave Sakura a _spare key_?"

"It's not like she's gonna _rob_ me or something." He shrugged. "I trust her, so it's fine, right?"

"I guess so," Rin mumbled. "I mean, when you put it _that_ way..."

Shirou frowned.

"If you're expecting me to give _you_ a spare key now just because you're staying over, then I'm sorry, but you're out of luck," he told her bluntly. "I'd give you one, but there doesn't seem to be much of a point if you're just going to be staying for a week or two."

"Fair point," Rin admitted.

"Right, then," Shirou said. "Ready to go, Sakura?"

"R-ready, Senpai," Sakura murmured miserably.

Shirou sighed. He wished that there was something he could do about it, but how did you make people be friends faster? If he went so far as to just _tell_ Sakura to be Rin's friend, then even if she agreed, it would only be a half-hearted effort.

Unless he told her that it would make him happy if they could be friends.

No, that was disgustingly manipulative, and even though it would make him happy for them to hurry up and be friends, he wouldn't do something so low and underhanded, especially just for his own satisfaction.

They started towards school in silence, and no matter how hard he tried, Shirou couldn't come up with anything to say to ease the dispirited droop in Sakura's shoulders and the stiff, haughty stride that Rin had dropped into out of practice.

It wasn't until the reached the hillside road that they saw any other students, who stared at them as they walked. For a moment, Shirou wondered why, and then he remembered that he and Rin had never even talked until just two nights ago, and as far as everyone else knew, not at all. So the fact that they were walking to school together, the Fake Janitor and the most popular girl in school, it would have seemed very bizarre.

Of course, to him, he'd just spent the last two weeks with her fighting pseudo gods with a female King Arthur as his partner, so even though it must have seemed new and strange to everyone else, it felt normal to him.

Rin, on the other hand, looked uncomfortable; her brow was furrowed and she had a troubled expression on her face.

"Is something wrong, Tousaka?" he asked.

"...Is there something weird about me, Shirou?" Rin asked after a moment. "I mean, I don't have bags under my eyes or anything like that, do I?"

"No," he said, after glancing to make sure that she really didn't. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just..."

"E-Everyone's staring," Sakura answered for her. "So Tousaka-senpai thinks that there must be something wrong with her if everyone is staring like that."

"Exactly!" Rin groused. "I'm a little tired because I'm not quite used to sleeping in your house, Shirou, but I made sure to do my hair right and there shouldn't be any wrinkles in my uniform, so why is everyone staring? Do I have dark circles under my eyes or something?"

"No," Sakura said before Shirou could. "You're beautiful as always, Tousaka-senpai. It's just that you're walking with us, today. You've always walked alone, before."

Rin scowled. "It's that simple? Geez. I thought I'd had this whole school thing down pat, but I guess there are still some things I need to learn."

By the time they made it through the main gate and started across the school courtyard, even Shirou was becoming uncomfortable with all of the stares. Some people were even whispering, wondering if, perhaps, Shirou had thawed Rin's "cold heart," and others outlandishly suggesting that she had joined Sakura and was now a part of his "harem, like in those manga."

It was _really_ awkward.

"Oh," Rin murmured softly, "and here comes a bothersome idiot."

"Sakura!" Shinji strode towards them, radiating anger, and Shirou's shoulders tensed as a thousand different feelings coiled up in his belly.

The last time he had seen Shinji, they were enemies, after all.

"Nii-san," Sakura mumbled miserably.

"You weren't at the Archery Club this morning!" Shinji raged. He seemed to ignore both Shirou and Rin. "What do you think you're doing, skipping like that without permission?!"

His hand came up to strike her, palm flat and fingers pressed together, but Shirou moved before he could even think of stopping himself and grabbed Shinji's wrist. Shinji recoiled and glanced incredulously at him.

"Emiya?"

The surprise melted quickly into understanding and boiled back up to anger — Shirou could see it all play across his face. Compared to Rin, who was on guard even when she was off guard, he was transparent.

"I see," Shinji sneered. "So, you went to Emiya's place again, huh?"

"Yes," Sakura said, straightening a little. "Yes, I went to help Senpai. That's —"

"Your responsibility as a junior?" Shinji finished disdainfully. "You're so unrefined, Sakura. Who cares about going to help out a guy who injured himself? You should just shut up and let me do all the thinking, understand?"

Shinji's arm went slack, and after a moment of indecision, Shirou let him go.

He couldn't start a fight here, not now, not in broad daylight.

"And you, Emiya," Shinji turned on him. "You should stop making her do stuff that keeps her so late. Sakura is part of the Archery Club, so it's just an inconvenience if you're stealing all her time in the mornings."

"Senpai isn't making me do anything!" Sakura protested. "Nii-san, I choose to help out of my own free will! So I —"

"So, nothing!" Shinji shot back. "Even if Emiya doesn't have parents, that doesn't mean you need to go and help him! Just leave him alone and do as I tell you! Stop making a nuisance of yourself, Sakura!"

"Sorry to butt in," Rin said suddenly, taking a step closer to Sakura, "but I couldn't help overhearing and I thought I might interrupt you before you make an even larger fool of yourself, Matou-kun."

Shinji blanched. "Tousaka?! But — why are you with Sakura?"

"It's not strange," Rin said casually. "After all, Sakura and I have a mutual friend, so I thought I might make friends with Sakura, too."

"Friend?" Shinji demanded.

"Yes," Rin replied. "We're both friends of Shirou, you see. That's why we all came together this morning. Didn't you notice?"

"You...know Emiya?"

"Well enough that we'll be coming here together in the mornings and walking home after school," Rin said slyly.

For a moment, Shinji looked angry and furious, but then it passed and a slow, triumphant smile curled on his lips.

"That joke was really bad, Tousaka," he told her snidely. "You're a bit behind the times. Yeah, Emiya and I were friends a while ago, but we aren't that close anymore, so trying to get to me through him won't work. You should just ask me yourself."

"Oh?" The cool smile that tugged at Rin's lips was very familiar to Shirou, and it had never boded well for whoever had been its victim before. "Then it's a good thing I have no interest in you, Matou-kun."

Shinji's broad smirk vanished. "You —!"

"And one last thing," Rin went on. "The Archery Club's morning practice is open participation, not mandatory. Sakura doesn't need the permission of someone like you to be absent from it, so it would be doing everyone a favor if you stopped whining like a little girl and got over it."

Shinji flinched. "Fine!" he shouted. "I'll forgive you this time, but you'll get what's coming to you next time, Sakura!"

He turned and ran away.

Shirou almost wanted to laugh.

"I'm sorry about Nii-san, Senpai," Sakura apologized the minute Shinji was out of earshot.

"Don't worry about it," Shirou assured her. "Shinji's always been like that."

"What Shirou said," Rin agreed. "Actually, that was good for me — I feel wide awake, now. A good argument was just what I needed to get back into shape. Do me a favor, Sakura, and let him know that he's free to try again whenever he likes."

"As you say, Tousaka-senpai," Sakura said with a surprisingly cheerful smile.

They separated a few minutes later — Sakura went to the first year hallway, and Shirou and Rin continued up to the second year hallway.

No sooner had they cleared the stairs, however, than did they nearly bowl over Issei, who did a frantic, horrified double-take the moment he saw them.

"Emiya?" he squawked. "No, more importantly than that — Emiya, what are you doing with Tousaka?!"

"What kind of greeting is _that_, Ryûdô-kun?" Rin asked sardonically.

"I had a bad feeling when I woke up this morning, but I never thought it would be something this bad! Emiya," Issei grabbed for Shirou's hand, "come on! You have to get away before she poisons you!"

"Don't you think you're overreacting a little, Issei?" Shirou asked, but let himself be pulled away.

"Let him have his fun," Rin said nonchalantly. "Anyway, I'll see you later, Shirou."

"Uh, sure," Shirou replied.

She walked down the hall towards her own classroom.

"Emiya, how could you?" Issei moaned once she'd left. "You've joined forces with the enemy!"

"Now you're _definitely_ overreacting," Shirou quipped. He felt a small grin play at the corners of his lips. "She's not really that bad, you know, once you get to know her..."

The rest of the day passed mostly normally. Nothing odd or out of place happened, and just about the only strange things were the looks he got when people thought he didn't notice. It was just the reaction to his walking to school with Rin, he decided. Once everyone had time to get used to the idea, it wouldn't be so strange, so they'd stop staring at him so oddly.

Rin walked home with him after school, and Sakura, he presumed, would show up around dinnertime. He'd been tempted to ask her to walk home with him so that she could avoid another confrontation with Shinji, but she was nowhere to be found, so he and Rin left without her. They walked in relative silence and said nothing of importance. Mostly, they discussed the things they already knew and repeated the questions they had asked before. Shirou hoped that asking again might prompt Rin's mind to go in the right direction and come to a conclusion he hadn't (or hadn't been able to) and he imagined that she was hoping for much the same, but nothing came of it in the end.

The moment they stepped through the front door and had their shoes off, Rin marched down the hall with nothing more than a quick "wait here," and came back a few minutes later with a handful of thick, leather-bound books whose covers were blank. The pages were new-looking, as though they'd just been printed, and they were all in pristine condition.

"Here," she dropped them unceremoniously into his arms. "These are the books I copied for you last night. You should find everything you need to know in those, and it took me the better part of last night to finish them, so I hope you appreciate the effort I went through for you."

He grabbed one of the books and flipped it open to a random page, then scanned the first three paragraphs. It discussed the usage of catalysts and reagents in the summoning of a Heroic Spirit. From the looks of it, it would be just what he needed, and it'd certainly prove to be very useful.

He allowed a smile to cross his lips. "Thanks," he said sincerely. "I really appreciate this, Tousaka."

"Well, _someone_ had to help you," she said haughtily. There was a smug smile about her lips. "If I'd left you alone, you probably would've done something incredibly stupid, so it's really in my best interest to prevent you from making a terrible mistake."

"If you say so," he replied.

Her haughtiness dropped and all trace of jest vanished.

"Shirou," she began seriously. "I'm trusting you. These books were copied from hand-written research journals my family has compiled over the last four Grail Wars. If it weren't for the fact that most of the people who _willingly choose _to participate in the Grail Wars already know at least the gist of what's in those books, I wouldn't have even _considered_ sharing them with you. Do you understand? This isn't something I'm going to be doing often."

"Right, I get it," he told her. "I understand, Tousaka. Trust me, I know how big a deal this is. I'm not going to betray your confidence."

"Good," she said. "Now, it's my turn to make dinner, so you and Saber can go do whatever it is that you want while I prepare."

She turned again and walked away. Shirou followed her down the hall, but went past the living room and kitchen and entered his room, where Saber was sleeping peacefully. He set his bag down and sat next to her, then cracked the first book open to the section titled "Contracting Higher Spirits: Servants, Ghost Liners, Divine Spirits, and Elementals."

This was _exactly_ what he'd been looking for.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**No, Shirou has not become a Sorcerer. For those of you who are new to Fate/Stay Night, magecraft is something whose effect can be replicated with technology. Sorcery, or True Magic, cannot be replicated, and there are only two known Sorcerers as far as the Mage's Association is concerned: Zelretch and Aoko.**

**I take back what I said last chapter; they do mention Saber's real name in the anime, but only once, I think. Merlin calls her "Arturia" in one of the Dream Cycle scenes, so it seems that either the dubbing was done wrong, or my previous "Altria" source is incorrect. Either is entirely possible: Arturia, though it doesn't seem to have any origin besides being a feminine form of Arthur Nasu made up and the name of a company that sells musical instruments, sounds better, while Altria is an Etruscan earth goddess (and perhaps more appropriate, because "Artorius" is believed to be of Etruscan origin).**

**I'm assuming that Archer came from something resembling the Fate Route, because one of the things that started him down his path was Illya's death a year after the Grail War. Illya only lives after the Fate Route — she's killed in Unlimited Blade Works and sacrifices herself in Heaven's Feel True End. The only other plausible ending for Archer's original Grail War is the Mind of Steel bad end, because I don't think Illya dies in that one. Since I've gotten a number of reviews telling me that he's from the originally planned "Illya Route," but we don't have many details about that, I'm going to assume that his original Route is mostly like the Fate Route.**

**Also, for those of you who didn't read the edit to last chapter's A/N: I've actually planned out two endings and three epilogues to this fic, all of which will be posted (we'll call this story the "King's Sword" route, I think; if you've got a better name for it, feel free to say so). There'll be a Good end and a Normal end, and then three epilogues: Good, True, and Normal. The Good and True epilogues will come from the Good end and will be very similar because they're different offshoots of the same ending. The Normal epilogue will follow the Normal end, and it'll be open enough that you could technically create a crossover sequel akin to "Hill of Swords" or "In Flight."**

**The Fate/Revenant Ultimate Guide is here:  
>forum Fate_Revenant_Ultimate_Guide/ 110427/  
>There <em>are<em> spoilers there, so you've been warned.**

**For those of you who care, I am now on Twitter.**

**Lastly, I'm trying to come up with a title for Shirou. The following are being considered: King of Blades, King of Swords, King of Miracles, King of Saviors. If you have any other ideas for his title, or if there's one in particular you like, please say so. I'll be listening until about Chapter 11 of the sequel, which is tentatively titled "Fate/Revenant Knight". I won't use anything that is already taken in canon, like "King of Heroes," "King of Conquerors," or "King of Knights."**

**Revised: 5/5/13**

_**I have created over a thousand blades.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	4. An Eerie Enemy

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter IV: An Eerie Enemy  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

It happened suddenly and unexpectedly, without warning or mercy.

The moment he made to step through the school gates, there was a horrible sort of pain constricting around his heart. It was as though something had reached inside him and squeezed, squeezed, _squeezed_, trying to force out every drop of blood. The stench of ozone and blood and rotting meat invaded his nostrils.

The moment lasted an eternity. His vision went white. He couldn't _breathe_ —

And then it passed. He coughed and took in desperate gulps of air as his heart sped away in his chest and pounded a tattoo against his ribs. He clutched his hand over his heart, over the scar from Lancer's Gáe Bolg, and half-expected to find it soaked through with blood.

"So, I guess you noticed it, too," Rin said casually. Shirou looked up at her. She was frowning, and her brow was knitted together, but other than that, her expression was normal and disinterested.

And he remembered, and he couldn't believe that he had forgotten about it long enough to be caught by surprise.

"A bounded field," he choked out.

"Yes," she said, "and a pretty nasty one, too." She gave him an appraising look. "I guess it's only natural that you'd be so sensitive to the use of magecraft. After all, all that talent you lack in conventional magic had to have gone _some_where."

Ah, yes, that was comforting, Shirou thought as he regained his breath. Rin's usual manner of complimenting — back-handed and layered in an insult.

"You realize what this means, don't you?" she asked rhetorically. "There's a Master on campus, and by the way this thing feels, whoever it is happens to be a pretty nasty piece of work."

"It's cannibalistic," Shirou concluded. Rin gave him a half-amused look.

"I wouldn't call it cannibalistic, as it's a Bounded Field," she clarified. "But you've got the basic idea of what'll happen when it activates — everyone on campus will be broken down into Mana. Food for this Master's Servant, no doubt."

She plastered on her fake smile.

"Congratulations, Shirou!" she said with exaggerated cheer. "We've encountered one of the more twisted Masters in this Grail War only three days in!"

She couldn't have been more obvious if she'd screamed "I told you so!" at the top of her lungs.

"So then," Shirou began as he stood straight, "what are we gonna do about it?"

She shook her head. "Not now. We'll discuss it later today, on top of the roof during lunch. Meet me up there."

Then she walked off.

Shirou gave a helpless shrug to the air, then squared his shoulders into his usual casual posture and headed towards his own classroom.

Lunch rolled around quickly. The morning seemed to pass by in a blur, and he could only vaguely recollect what happened in each class — it hardly seemed important compared to the Grail War, so he didn't pay as much attention as he might have otherwise.

So, when the bell chimed for lunch, Shirou bought something to eat and headed up towards the roof.

Before that, though, he opened up the door to the student council room and looked inside. Issei sat at the table with his head resting on his arms.

"Issei," Shirou greeted. "Something wrong?"

As if he didn't already know. How had Rin explained it the first time? Normal people would be listless and tired. As Magi, he and she had a sort of natural resistance, so they didn't feel it, and they wouldn't be affected when the Bounded Field activated.

But guys like Issei and all the other students in the school, even the teachers, would be more and more tired as the Bloodfort drained their Prana.

"I dunno," Issei said tiredly. He lifted his head just enough to peer up at Shirou over his arms. "Lately, it just seems like I'm tired, no matter how much sleep I get, so if I get a chance to nap, I take it."

A shiver went down Shirou's spine, and suddenly there was a presence standing behind him, hovering, imposing, deathly cold. A hand came up — Shirou could see it out of the corner of his eye — and knocked once, twice on the wall beside the doorway.

"Ryûdô," Kuzuki Souichirou's cool voice called.

Issei bolted up in his chair. "Sensei!"

"Regarding the student from the Archery Club this morning," Kuzuki began, "apparently, she failed to return home, as well."

Issei jerked. "And what about Matou?"

"Absent," Kuzuki said succinctly. "At this point, we're not sure whether this is related to the other incidents happening in town, so I would appreciate it if you would keep this under wraps for now. As far as the other students know, those two are simply out sick."

"Yes, sir."

"That's all," Kuzuki intoned deeply. "Please excuse me."

The presence vanished. Shirou let out the breath he hadn't known he'd been holding.

He feigned ignorance — he remembered vaguely what Kuzuki had been talking about, but he'd paid it little mind in the grand scheme of things when the bigger concern was Rider and Shinji.

"The Archery Club?" he asked.

"Oh, right," Issei mumbled. "I guess you wouldn't have heard. Well, it does sort of concern you, so I might as well fill you in. The Captain of the Archery Club, Mitsuzuri Ayako, has been missing since yesterday. Then today, a student came forth who said they'd seen her talking to Matou Shinji before she vanished. Now, today, Shinji's absent, too."

"Shinji, huh," Shirou muttered. He didn't know how he'd been so blind before. He'd missed all the signs, had been too busy trying not to get too deeply involved in the War to notice the clues right in front of him. "Well, I've got an appointment to keep. I'll see you later."

"Yeah," Issei yawned, "see you…later."

A snore followed Shirou as he closed the door.

With that taken care of (and a better idea of what he needed to work on), he headed up the stairs and to the roof. In better weather, it would have been packed with students, but even with Fuyuki's rather mild winters, it was almost unbearably cold when he stepped out onto the rooftop. Rin was the only other one there.

"You're late!" she stuttered out. She was rubbing her arms and looked like she'd rather be anywhere else. "What kept you so long?"

"Sorry," Shirou said, "but I figured you might like this."

He offered her the extra coffee he'd bought. She took it with a sour expression on her face and shivered again.

"Well," she said dryly, "if you're not good for anything else, then at least you're thoughtful."

The tab snapped open with a pop. She took a sip and Shirou could see the delightful warmth travel down her spine. Well, it was winter, after all. Even a winter as mild as Fuyuki's was still cold.

"Thanks," she said sincerely, but it was ruined as she continued. "But get tea next time. I like milk teas. The worth of my gratitude goes down if it's anything else, so keep that in mind."

"Right," Shirou said with a smile, "I'll try to remember that next time. Besides that, though…the Bounded Field? That's what we're up here to talk about, right? So no one else can hear us?"

Her expression twisted into something resembling anger.

"You're awfully calm about this, aren't you?" she asked testily. "There's a Bounded Field around this school designed specifically to turn everyone here into a fine red paste, and yet you're discussing it like it's just the weather?"

Shirou frowned at her. "It's not like I'm not upset about it, but the longer we waste getting emotional about it, the longer it'll take to figure out what to do about it, and the more uncomfortable this spot will become. It's cold up here, so I just want to finish this quickly."

She crossed her arms and scowled.

"As if I didn't!" she declared. The anger melted. "Oh well. Fine, I'll be direct about it, then. What do you plan to do after school?"

"Nothing, really," Shirou admitted. It was a lie, but only half of one. He'd halfway started plans to deal with the War, but so far had only managed to get that he had to 'Stop Shinji and Rider.' They were the most immediate concern, because Illya wasn't due to interfere again yet (though how long he could count on his sketchy outline of the timeline remaining accurate was an issue he'd probably have to address later). "Why? What're you thinking of doing?"

She arched an eyebrow at him incredulously.

"Shirou," she began, "there's an enemy Master in this school who's set up a Bounded Field designed specifically to consume every living human being inside of it. Why do you _think_ I'm asking what you're planning to do after school?"

"Well, you want my help dealing with it, I guess," Shirou said. "But you just got done telling me how useless I am the other day."

"Maybe so," she countered, "but this particular Master is a nasty piece of work, and even someone as inept as you would be helpful. This Master either isn't a proper Magus, or he isn't a Magus at all. There are only two actual Magi in Fuyuki. Any other Master must have come from somewhere else, or simply have been a weirdo who knows a little bit of magic."

Shirou did not need her to specify that he wasn't counted amongst Fuyuki's Magi. Her opinion of him was nowhere near that high.

"So if this Master isn't a proper Magus," Shirou concluded, "then he couldn't have put up this Bounded Field, right? Then it must've been—"

"His Servant," Rin finished with a smile. "Exactly. When a Servant is summoned by an incompetent Master, it's difficult for them to match up against other Servants who _do_ have proper Masters. The only way for them to win is to do a lot of planning. That's what this Bounded Field is for, and this is a really complex one. If the Master could do something like that, then there's no way I wouldn't have noticed them."

"So it could only be the Servant," Shirou jumped in. "That makes sense. I guess it's too complex to just tear down, then, isn't it?"

He already knew the answer. They could weaken it, but it was just delaying the inevitable. The only thing to do was to defeat Rider before the Bloodfort could be activated.

"No," Rin answered, "I already tried, but it was useless. According to Archer, this thing should be ready in about eight days. After that, either the Master or the Servant could activate it anytime they want."

"Which means that we have to defeat him before then," Shirou added.

"That's right," Rin replied with a nod. "But he's practically won already, so if he's smart, then the only time he'll show up is when he's going to activate it. That'll be when we confront him."

No, Shirou knew. If they waited that long, then things would be difficult. The better idea would be to confront Shinji and Rider when they went to kidnap another student —

"What about the missing students?" Shirou asked suddenly.

Rin arched an eyebrow. "Missing students? What missing students?"

"Shinji was absent today," Shirou told her. "And so was Mitsuzuri. Don't you think it's a little bit suspicious that they'd go missing just a day or two after this Bounded Field was put up when there's a Master in the school? I mean, what are the odds?"

Rin frowned.

"You're right," she admitted. "That is a bit suspicious. What're we supposed to do, then?"

"Ask around, maybe?" Last time, he'd done exactly that, but she had interrupted him and tried to tear his Command Seals out of his arm because he wasn't 'taking his role as Master seriously' or something like that. "I don't know…look around the school after everyone else has left, see if we can't find anything? You'd probably be better at that than I am."

She smirked. "Well, at least you're honest."

She took another small sip of her coffee.

"That's a good idea, though," she mused. "A bit risky, but if we look around the school, then we might find out what happened to Mitsuzuri. I could care less about Shinji." She paused. "If we're lucky, we might even find some clues about who this mysterious Master is."

"So you don't have any idea?"

"I just told you that there are only two actual Magi in Fuyuki," she said tersely. "This Master isn't one of them, which means it could be practically anyone, Shirou."

"Right, right, sorry I asked."

The first bell echoed over the cold rooftop. It was the signal that the lunch break was over.

"That's it, then," Rin said. "We'll do some looking around after classes are over, so we'll meet up and ask around, maybe search the school for other signs of magecraft."

It was a nice idea, but Shirou knew what would find them after school. The upside, he supposed, was that he was already capable of Projecting Kanshou and Bakuya, so there was no need to worry about Caliburn.

The only question was…was he capable of beating Rider?

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The question of Shinji had always been a bit of a gray area for Shirou. He was aware, of course, that Shinji wasn't exactly the nicest example of a human being. It hadn't really been an issue — Shirou was Shirou and Shinji was Shinji. It was a bit of an awkward friendship, but a friendship nonetheless.

The problem was the Grail War, or more accurately, what the Grail War had turned Shinji into. It was easy to say that whoever had set up the Bloodfort was a horrible person, but it was harder to say that about someone who was your friend. There were too many signs that Shirou had ignored the first time around, signs that all pointed to Shinji as the Master who'd set up the Bloodfort. He'd let his friendship blind him to the facts, and hundreds of people had nearly died because of it.

The solution to the mental indecisiveness had come shortly after he'd forced Shinji to drop the Bloodfort — or rather, shortly after he had forced Shinji to have Rider drop it, but that was semantics. From that point on, he'd separated Shinji into two people. First, there was his longtime friend, a guy who was a little rough around the edges and maybe even a little bit of an asshole, but not a psychopath. Second, there was the Master in the Grail War, the mass-murderer who cared nothing for the innocent people who got hurt in his way and cherished only his own life and success. That Shinji was an enemy, a Master who needed to be eliminated.

The fact that there may not actually be a difference between the two was a fact that Shirou was still wrestling with.

The bell rang signaling the end of the school day, and Shirou felt as though he had not learned anything all day. He had been too focused on the Grail War, on the issue of Shinji, on Rider, Berserker, and Archer, on all the things that would happen over the course of the War.

Which was fine, he decided as he walked to the spot where he would meet Rin. The Grail War lasted about two weeks. He could afford not to worry about school for that long. The Grail War was far more important.

A pair of giggling girls walked out of a classroom a little ways down the hall. Shirou ignored them and kept walking.

"So," he muttered to himself, "if everything's going the way it should be, Rider will attack us later on. Then…what? I don't want to try creating another Caliburn — just the thought of what might happen when there're _two_ of them makes my head hurt."

That didn't leave much. Since he didn't want to risk making another Caliburn, he had to Project something else, but there wasn't much in his arsenal. Just about the only other swords he had any experience Projecting were Kanshou and Bakuya.

That was a risk, he realized immediately. Rin…she didn't exactly know about his abilities, did she? He'd told her that his specialty was Projection, but Saber had told him that what he'd done wasn't proper Projection. As far as Rin knew, Shirou's Projection of Caliburn had to do with Saber (which was actually true, to a certain extent). What would happen if he Projected the two swords that _Archer_ favored?

Ugh. It would be so much easier if he actually knew the specifics of what he was doing, instead of just winging it all the time.

"Shirou!"

Shirou looked up and realized suddenly that he'd been standing in the middle of the hallway just in front of the stairs. Rin was standing in front of him and frowning, probably at his lack of reaction to her presence.

How long had she been standing there?

"Tousaka," he greeted belatedly.

She pressed her lips together, but she didn't call him out on his inattentiveness.

"Anything new?" she asked directly.

"Nothing," he told her. "Well, something I didn't really mention earlier — Issei said that a student came forth earlier about Mitsuzuri. According to him, Mitsuzuri was last seen talking to Shinji sometime last night." He frowned. "Are you sure about what you said?"

"Hm? What do you mean?"

"About the Matou," Shirou clarified. "I mean, it's not possible Shinji could be a Master?"

"It's entirely possible," Rin said, "even if it's not very likely. The fact of the matter is that we simply don't have any proof either way. It's true that he could be a Master, but it's also true that he might not be. The long and short of it is that he could be a Master, given the right circumstances, but that it's not really something I'd be money on. Like I told you before: the Matou line has been dying out for the last few generations. They have so little magic left that it's hardly worth mentioning."

"You're probably right," he admitted, even though he knew otherwise. "Anyway, what about you? Have you had any luck, then?"

Rin shook her head.

"Nothing. Everyone I've talked to is under the impression that Matou and Mitsuzuri are simply out sick today. That might not help us at all, but it's definitely got its own uses. After all, the less they suspect, the less likely they are to believe something unnatural is happening around here."

"Right," Shirou said.

"Well, aside from that, I haven't found anything," she went on. "Nothing new, anyway. The only thing we can really do is wait for this Master to show himself, like I said before. I don't like it, but our options are rather limited. Right now, our best bet is to conserve our energy for the moment of confrontation —"

A scream cut her off, a very loud, very much feminine scream. It was coming from inside the building somewhere, maybe a classroom or a closet.

Shirou remembered quite clearly what had happened the first time. The first time, Rin had been trying to kill him and take his Command Seals, and it was this very scream that had pretty much saved his life.

The problem was…he couldn't remember exactly where the girl was supposed to be.

"There's no way we could be that lucky," Rin murmured. She looked down and reached into her bag, rummaging around for something. "I mean, what are the odds? How could this mysterious psychopathic Master be smart enough to have this Bounded Field set up, but stupid enough to risk kidnapping a student when there are two Masters?"

She gave a small "aha" and pulled whatever she'd been searching for from her bag, then thrust it forward and offered it to him. Shirou's heart lurched in his chest.

It was Caliburn.

Or, more accurately, it was Caliburn's _hilt_. Everything from the tip of the blade down to the guard was gone. _Everything_ — the blade itself, the intricate langet, the riser and the strange letters written down the blade — it was all gone. In effect, what Rin held in her hand was nothing more than a handle wrapped in blue, an intricate golden guard, and a bejeweled pommel.

"Is that…?"

Rin let out a sigh, then the hilt glowed with a pale silvery light as the blade and langet slowly reformed molecule by molecule from the guard on up. It was like watching light gather in the air and piece together into a sword. In a few short moments, the entirety of Caliburn was held in her hand in all its magnificent golden glory.

"Here," she said. "I used a technique I learned from that fake priest to remove the burden of carrying around Caliburn. It's a fairly easy skill, and I'll teach it to you later, but for now, take it and let's get going."

"Uh — right," he said. He took Caliburn from her and hefted its newly familiar weight as she closed her bag back up and looked at him expectantly. He gave her a nod, and then, at some unseen unheard signal, they took off.

"It came from down here!" Rin called out behind her as she raced down the stairs.

"I know!" Shirou answered her. He put on an extra burst of speed and took the steps two at a time to overtake her. "And right now, I'm the one with the weapon, so I should probably go first, just in case there's a Servant involved!"

Vaguely, he realized the humor in what he was doing — the very first thing parents warned their children not to do was go running around with sharp objects, but here he was, dashing through the school hallways with a sword in his hands.

The irony did not escape him.

"Idiot!" she retorted as they made it to the first floor. "If there's a Servant involved, the only thing you going first will accomplish is getting you killed!"

They sprinted down the hallways as fast as their legs would carry them, and Shirou tried desperately to remember where exactly the girl had been the last time. There'd been an open door, no, two sets of open doors that lead outside into the forest, where he'd fought Rider, so she was definitely on the first floor.

"Well, unless you brought Archer along, I'm the best chance we've got!" he called behind him.

He pulled up a mental map of the school and considered the different exits — where they led to, where they were on the building, what features were nearby, the shape of the hallway leading up to them — eliminating each one by one until…there. The girl would be there, because it was the only place that fit.

"Of course not!" she fired back. "Archer's still recovering from that wound Saber inflicted upon him the other night! We can't all have regeneration magic, Shirou!"

"Well, that's just," he flung himself around the corner, and there she was, lying unconscious on the floor. Rin thudded to a stop behind him, and the sound of her panting filled his right ear. "That doesn't matter, right now."

"Move it," she muttered as she pushed past him. She kneeled beside the girl and lifted her up, then went about checking her vitals. Rin's frown deepened with every passing second. "It's as I suspected, then. Whoever was here a moment ago tried to drain the life out of this girl."

"A Servant?" Shirou asked quietly. Come to think of it, they never had found out whether it was Shinji or Rider who had drained Prana from this girl.

"Given the evidence we have so far, that seems to be most likely," Rin said. "In fact, it's probably the same Servant who set up this Bounded Field. And we were so close, too. If we'd been a few minutes faster, we would've caught them in the act."

She placed the girl on the floor back-down and pulled out a gem stone — an immaculate red ruby cut into a perfect rectangular shape.

"If we leave her like this, she'll die," Rin explained. "I can help her, though, but it'll take a moment."

"Right," Shirou said.

She let out another sigh, then held her hand out over the girl as red light spilled out between her fingers. Rin closed her eyes, then began to chant an incantation silently. Her lips moved without a sound, miming words slowly and deliberately. Her brow knitted together and her eyes were gently shut. Again, watching the same scene for a second time, Shirou marveled at the seriousness etched into every line and curve of her face, and wondered at the sense of nostalgia it filled him with.

"Ugh!" she groaned suddenly. "I can't concentrate! Emiya, shut that door!"

Shirou jolted out of his reverie as his body moved almost on its own to fulfill her command, and it was only the fact that he knew it was coming that allowed him to parry the nail-like dagger aimed for Rin's face with a shallow slash from Caliburn. There was a clang of steel on steel, and the dagger ricocheted back out into the courtyard.

Rin spun around at the noise. "Shirou, what —?"

Shirou settled Caliburn in front of him and waited in case a follow up attack came. "Looks like the Servant that attacked this girl wasn't quite as gone as we thought."

Shirou could imagine the look of understanding that must've flashed across her face, the way her mouth fell open just the slightest, the way her eyebrows slowly rose upwards, the way her eyes went just a little bit wide — it was a rare look for her, but the Grail War was full of rarities.

"You can't intend to go out there by yourself!" she told him angrily. "Shirou, that's a Servant out there!"

"I know," he said solemnly. "Take care of the girl first."

He made sure to close the door behind him.

The coppery scent of blood filled the air outside, mixing and coiling around a second, strangely serpentine scent, like visiting the reptile house at the zoo.

Any Magus with any sort of skill was sensitive to the usage of nearby magecraft, something Rin had all but directly told him last time when they'd discussed the presence of a Master at the school. How exactly a Magus' brain interpreted this sensitivity was unique to each Magus; Shirou, who enjoyed cooking and the smell of fine food, seemed to interpret it as scents.

It was something he'd become aware of just recently, an ability of sorts that had been evolving ever since he'd been shuttled back in time. It hadn't been too noticeable at first, and by the time it would have become conspicuous, he would already have gotten too used to Saber and Archer's presence to really pay it any mind.

He'd only really noticed it the night before, when he came home and started reading the books Rin had given him, but was distracted by the scent of burgundy and fresh water — Saber's scent, a sign, he figured, of her status as royalty and the "richness" of her power.

Archer was smoke and steel. What exactly that meant, Shirou didn't know, just that it was the scent of Archer's power.

Cúchulainn, he'd almost missed, as distracted as he'd been, but Lancer smelled like wet dog — which made sense, as he was the Hound of Culann.

So then, this smell of snakes and blood could only belong to Rider.

He walked slowly across the courtyard and kept his body reinforced and his senses sharp. Because her Master wasn't a proper Magus, Rider attacked from the shadows and leapt around with catlike grace, so she could come at him from any angle. If he wasn't prepared, he would be crushed.

He had no illusions about beating her if she used her Noble Phantasm.

The scent led to the forest behind the Archery Club, just as he remembered. If he was right, he thought as he walked through the trees, and it hadn't been a hallucination, then Shinji would be back here, too. If that was true, then all he'd have to do was corner Shinji and force him to drop the Bloodfort.

A low chuckle echoed through the air, coming, at once, from everywhere and nowhere. It was impossible to pinpoint the origin, identity, or the location of the one laughing. With Rider stalking through the branches and leaves, though, it could only be one person.

Shinji.

The sound of chains rattling slithered in his right ear, and it was only instinct that threw Shirou backwards to avoid the attack aimed for his throat. The nail-like dagger whistled harmlessly through the space in front of him, and a black blur hit a tree trunk and bounced effortlessly off, then landed on all fours in the dirt. Pinkish-red hair fell unceremoniously about its shoulders and haunches like a cloak.

Rider.

She smiled, an irritating, superior smile, like a spider about to feast on its prey or a snake that's trapped a rabbit and is about to squeeze its life away. Then, she leapt up and somersaulted over his head. He spun around just fast enough to see her push herself off another tree and rocket towards him with one of her nails

It took all of his strength to parry the blow, and it still pushed his feet into the dirt and nearly sent him tumbling. He didn't have the chance to return the blow — by the time his muscles could react to the sudden slack that followed her retreat, she had already flung herself backwards and ghosted away into the trees again.

She wasn't gone. He could still smell the bloody, reptilian scent that marked her presence.

The next attack came as swiftly as the first, and shot towards him from the side at an angle. It was too awkward to block the way he had before. The best he could do was swing Caliburn around and deflect the blow away from his body so that Rider and her nail flew harmlessly past his leg. Spiderlike, she landed sideways on another tree trunk and pushed herself off and away. She vanished again.

Guerilla tactics. Against a Servant of greater power, it might have been a good idea, but Shirou held no illusions about being Rider's better. It might be fair to say that he was a better fighter than her, but to say that he was stronger was a mistake. There was no reason for her to be so cautious about him.

Another of Shinji's chuckles echoed through the forest. Like the first, though, it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. Trying to pinpoint it would be difficult enough, but it was impossible if he wanted to avoid Rider's attacks.

The third attack came from his right. She rushed in like a speeding bullet, angled low so that her dagger could reach up under his guard. It didn't work. It couldn't have. Saber had been his teacher, and the only swordsman who had ever given her skills any trouble was Assassin. Shirou deflected the blow again, up and away this time instead of out and to the side. Rider skidded around him, then leapt backwards and back into the trees.

Like a ghost, she vanished once more.

There was a long pause as he waited for her, but no attack came. He couldn't tell where she'd gone — not by sight, nor by her "scent," as the coppery, serpentine stench filled the entire forest — only that she hadn't left.

"I'm surprised," her voice echoed sultrily. "Aren't you going to use one of those Command Seals to summon your Servant?"

A grin twisted its way onto Shirou's lips. Banter. He could play that game. It was Rin's favorite, after all.

"Hate to disappoint you," he called out to her, "but those are kind of precious. I wouldn't use it for something as trivial as this."

"Careful with that bravado," she teased from everywhere at once. "A girl might take offence."

"Like you're one to talk!" he retorted. "All this dancing around is pointless. The only thing you're doing is wasting time, and if you're not going to get it over with already, then I've got some better things to do!"

Her voice chuckled.

"I guess it's bad form to fight a Master seriously," she mused. "But since you don't want to play, I supposed the least I can do is make your death as quick as I can."

The clink of her chains came from behind, and he spun around to deflect one of her daggers with Caliburn. Her pink lips pulled backwards into a snarl as she grunted and leap back into the trees, then vanished again. It was ridiculous. She was a Servant. Was she so self-conscious of her skills that such a simple thing as him blocking her rattled her so?

He grunted too.

"Guess Tousaka was worried for nothing," Shirou prodded. "Compared to the other Servants in this War, you're not really anything to be threatened by!"

"Oh?" her voice taunted. "My, you sound so sure of yourself. If you're not careful, boy, you might just find yourself in more trouble than you bargained for. In fact…"

The chains clinked again, and the sound bounced endlessly off the narrow trunks around him. If he'd been more practiced at reinforcing his body, he might have been able to reinforce his ears and find out where she was, but no matter how hard he tried, his ordinary human ears weren't sensitive enough.

"You might just…"

Something big and heavy, like a human body, swooped through the air.

"DIE!"

Something long, thin, and metallic whistled through the air. The chain rattled as its length was pulled taut. The spike, the narrow steel instrument she wielded like a dagger, soared towards him.

"From behind!" he realized. He spun around. Caliburn followed the twist of his body and hissed as it arced up and out to parry the attack.

But it was unnecessary.

A moment before the collision, something else shot forward like a bullet and impacted against the nail. It was knocked off course and spun upwards like a baton. A second later, another ball of black energy slammed into it and sent it straight into the trunk of a tree. Caliburn completed its swing an instant later and cut only empty air.

Shirou knew immediately who had interrupted.

"Tousaka!"

After all, the Gandr Shot was her favorite attack — fast, cost efficient, and useful. It was practically her trademark.

"Tch!" Rider scoffed angrily and yanked her weapon free with a single hard tug. The moment her spike was back in her hand, she faded away and vanished like the morning mist. The scent of blood remained, courtesy of the Bloodfort, no doubt, but the reptilian smell of snakes was gone.

"Shirou!"

Rin was running through the forest, dodging and weaving through the trees with a strange grace. He waited until she had come to a halt in front of him and her breathing had returned to normal before speaking. She must have run the entire way.

"Is that girl okay?" he asked immediately.

"She'll be fine," Rin told him. "A few days of rest and she should be back to normal. More importantly, what about you? Are you hurt? Did you get injured?"

Shirou relaxed his grip on Caliburn and held it loosely in his right hand instead of with both.

"No, I'm fine," he reassured her. "Either that Servant wasn't very strong, or she wasn't interested in actually killing me. She didn't really get in close too much, and she didn't really go for a fatal blow, either. It was…kind of weird, actually."

Rin frowned.

"You shouldn't underestimate a Servant," she admonished. "With that said, though, it is a bit odd. Do you think maybe she was just…testing the waters, so to speak?"

Shirou frowned, too. Now that he thought about it, she might have been right. Servants were Heroic Spirits. They were supposed to be better, faster, and stronger than ordinary humans. For however easy it was to parry her attacks, if Rider had gotten up close and attacked him like she had at the beginning, he would've been hard pressed to keep up.

In a head on head fight, he might have been fast enough to keep up with her, but would he have been strong enough?

"You're probably right," he said. "If she'd really tried, she probably would've wiped the floor with me."

"Yeah," Rin agreed. She tilted her head a little thoughtfully. "You think she was the Servant who set up this Bounded Field? I didn't really get a good read on her earlier; I wasn't close enough."

Shirou weighed his options, but took only a moment to decide.

"Definitely," he said confidently. Rin arched an eyebrow at him and he tapped his nose with a finger. "She's got the same smell of blood as the Bounded Field does."

The other eyebrow joined its twin, and a moment later her face screwed up. She brought a hand to her mouth, and from behind it he could hear…a giggle.

"I'm sorry," she said between laughs. "I-It's just…Emiya Shirou: Bloodhound."

She broke down, clutching her arms around her stomach as she tried to stifle herself. He frowned at her and his brow knitted together as he glared, but it did nothing to stop her from laughing.

It wasn't _that_ funny.

"I-In all seriousness," she said once she'd calmed down, "this is a bit of good news. We know who the Servant is behind this Bloodfort, now. It's just a matter of finding the Master and defeating him. If today is anything to go by, then whoever he is just doesn't have the patience to sit around and wait for the Bounded Field to run its course. That gives us an advantage."

"Because we know he'll try to attack again, and all we have to do is wait for him," Shirou concluded.

Rin's smile was absolutely predatory. "Exactly."

She let out a sigh, then tapped Caliburn's hilt. A few moments later, the blade and langet had disappeared like dust in the wind, leaving only the hilt, guard, and pummel.

"Anyway," she said, "you go ahead home. I have some business I need to take care of, so I'll be back later."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

It wasn't quite dark when Shirou made it home, but the gate was still locked. He supposed it wasn't too unusual. After all, before the Grail War had started, he'd often been home much later in the evening. The gate would have been open and Sakura would have beeen inside preparing dinner.

He opened the front door.

"I'm home!" he called out.

He reached down and tugged off his shoes. Caliburn's hilt and his bag were still held in one hand, but the action was practiced and only a little more awkward than normal.

When he looked up, Saber was standing in front of him.

"Welcome home, Shirou," she said politely.

"Saber," he greeted with a nod. "Ah…did you sleep all day again?"

"There is little else to do during the day," she affirmed, "and it is wise to sleep when you are not in battle and the opportunity arises, but I did spend some time in the dojo earlier today."

"I see. Have your injuries healed? You know…from the fight with Berserker?"

"My injuries from Berserker have long since healed, Shirou," she told him. "I'm ready for combat whenever the moment arises. You may rest assured that I am at full strength."

That was right, he realized. She hadn't been injured by Gáe Bolg this time, so the cursed wound that had taken forever to heal didn't exist. In fact, she would've been completely healed by the time he got up the morning after.

She looked him over and her eyes latched onto Caliburn. Her brow furrowed.

"And what of you, Shirou?" she asked pointedly. "Did something happen at the school?"

Oh, right. Yeah, she'd definitely be upset with him. He hadn't called her to his side in the scuffle with Rider, so she'd be angry at him for not summoning her with a Command Seal.

"Let's get to the living room first," he said. "I'll explain everything then."

He made a quick stop to his room to drop off his bag and Caliburn, then went back and sat next to Saber at the table. From there, he explained everything — the Bounded Field, the discussion with Rin during lunch, the missing students, the girl who'd been attacked, and then the Servant who attacked them.

"She didn't really seem like she wanted to kill me," he told her. "She didn't seem to be taking the fight seriously — I mean, if she'd just come at me and kept attacking again and again, there's no way I would have been able to keep up. The strange thing was, it seemed more like she was just…testing me, you know? Maybe trying to get information about my skills, or trying to get me to summon you, so that her Master could figure out who my Servant was."

"And that is why you did not summon me?" Saber asked dangerously. "Because you didn't think she was a threat? Shirou, no ordinary Magus could stand up to a Servant, not even someone as powerful as Rin. If you keep risking your life needlessly like this, then there will come a time when your luck runs out and the only thing your stubborn recklessness will accomplish is to get you killed —"

She broke off.

"Someone has entered the gate," she announced quietly.

"Probably Tousaka," Shirou told her. "Or maybe Sakura. Look, I understand what you're saying, Saber, but you have to trust me. If all I do is rely on you, then what happens when you can't be there? What happens when an enemy Master has me cornered and you're fighting their Servant? I can handle myself. If I need you, and I'll know when I do, then I'll call for you. I promise."

Her lips pressed into a frown, but before she could say anything, the front door opened and Rin's voice called out. "I'm home!"

"Welcome home," he called back to her reflexively.

When she came into the living room, however, Sakura was standing next to her, and both were carrying bags of groceries.

"I know it's supposed to be your turn to cook, Shirou," Rin began with a smile, "but Sakura insisted that she take a turn, so she'll be cooking for us tonight."

Sakura gave a short bow, said, "Excuse me, Senpai," then moved immediately for the kitchen.

"Why don't you go ahead and rest for a while, Shirou," Rin said kindly. It was a weird sort of thing to be hearing from her mouth, because her usual attitude was condescending and superior. "I'll have Saber come and get you when dinner is ready."

But it was convenient. He might not have been tired from his fight with Rider, but there was still something that he needed to work on, something that would take him more than one day or afternoon to finish.

"Alright." Shirou stood. "I'll leave everything in your hands, Sakura."

"Thank you, Senpai," her voice called out as he left.

He made immediately for his room, but made sure not to run. He walked calmly down the hall and forced himself to go slow. He slid the door to his room open, then closed it behind him and pulled out the book he'd been reading the night before. He flipped it to the page he had stopped on and continued where he'd left off.

This was his secret weapon, he knew. If he could figure out how to do it, then he might just find a weapon good enough to fight Gilgamesh.

And if he could do that, then everything else would be so much the easier.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**For those of you Fate fans out there (who am I kidding? You wouldn't be here if you weren't), there's an RP called "Fate Ultra" in the Fate/Stay Night forums section on this site. I welcome you to join. You can RP a Master, a Servant, a regular Magus, or basically anything Nasu-verse, within limits. It's fun, most of the time (trolls are EVIL), but it goes a bit slow because we're missing the required number of characters. If you want to join, make sure to read the Rules section first.**

**Second, I plan to be a chapter ahead from now on. That means that I'll write all of chapter six before I post chapter five. That way, in emergencies, I can post the already-written chapter closer to schedule. Whether or not this works out, though, is up in the air for the moment.**

**The technique Rin used for Caliburn is used by Kirei and the Burial Agency to make it easier to carry and conceal their weapons of choice, the sword-knives known as "Black Keys." It's a fairly easy Single Action spell, or so I've been told, so Rin knows it, and she'd naturally teach Shirou.**

**I borrowed Shirou's "bloodhound" abilities from Gabriel Blessing, because it was too good an idea to ignore. And, well, I noticed hints of it in the VN, too, as I was looking up the necessary parts for this chapter.**

_**Unaware of loss.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	5. Scars of Friendship

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter V: Scars of Friendship  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

The spell Rin had used for Caliburn turned out to not be quite as simple as she had made it sound. It involved something along the lines of keeping the blade in a semi-solid state, then making it fully solid by running Prana through it, then turning it back after it was done…or something like that. Shirou hadn't really understood it at all.

Rin had seemed a bit disappointed. He supposed that after the whole thing with making Caliburn in the first place, she had expected him to be a bit more talented than she'd originally given him credit for, and that his ineptitude had more to do with a lack of training.

No such luck, Shirou knew. He was only good at that one thing, so the stuff that she might find easy came a bit harder for Shirou.

The solution she'd come up with was to use another of the Church's tricks. She'd sewn a piece of fabric into his belt — ordinary-looking fabric, but apparently special, too — and told him that all he had to do was turn on his Circuits, run some Prana, and reach for the cloth as though he were unsheathing a sword. Caliburn would come from the fabric, and he could wield it like always. To put it back, all he had to do was turn on his Circuits, run some Prana, and reach for the fabric with Caliburn in his hand as though he were sheathing a sword.

Easy. To Shirou's surprise, it worked just fine, and he had spent a few hours after dinner practicing until he could do it in his sleep.

Apparently, at least, according to Rin, it was the spell the Church's Burial Agency used to hide their Black Keys in such things as pages of the Bible.

What Black Keys were was something Shirou didn't know, but he daren't voice his confusion, lest Rin give him a long, drawn out lecture that he probably wouldn't understand either way.

So, after a normal morning of preparation, and with Caliburn hidden safely and discreetly in the belt of his school uniform, Shirou entered the living room to find a…complicated breakfast table.

"Sorry, Sakura," Rin was saying. "I can't eat butter. Pass me that marmalade over there."

Sakura blinked.

"Really?" she asked with a hint of disbelieving awe. "But you seemed like you didn't like sweet things, Tousaka-senpai."

Rin snorted just the slightest.

"No such girl exists, Sakura," she told Sakura matter-of-factly. "I like sugar, I just can't take it. If I let my guard down, I grow where you can't see, so I only eat sweets once a week."

Sakura blinked owlishly again, like she didn't understand. Shirou didn't blame her; he didn't understand it, either.

"But you're still eating marmalade, Senpai," she pointed out.

"I eat sugar in the mornings," Rin admitted, even though it contradicted her previous statement. "I have to eat at least a little bit, or else the backlash later on could get scary."

"I see," Sakura said, as though that explained everything. "Even if you only eat twice a day, it'll get worse if you eat twice as much."

"That's right," Rin agreed. Shirou felt so lost. "You know, I wasn't going to say anything, but you eat a lot, Saber. You have such a small frame, but you're eating almost as much as Sakura."

Saber looked a little surprised and glanced down at her own food.

"Is that so?" she mused. "I think I'm average. Rather, I believe the bread Sakura is eating is much more substantial than mine."

"T-that's not true!" Sakura was quick to say. "You, Tousaka-senpai, and I all have two slices of toast."

"But the thickness is different," Saber said. "Ours are only half an inch, but yours is double that. That is fine. You're in your growing period, so it's good to get energy. In fact, you should eat not just one, but your full share, Rin."

"I'm telling you, I can't," Rin said with a dramatic hand-wave. "I'm not like Sakura. All her nutrients go straight to her chest. If _I_ eat a lot in the morning, 'it' will increase. Besides, I don't usually eat breakfast, so I'm already compromising."

Uh oh. Alarms were going off in the back of Shirou's head. This was one of those subjects that girls only talked about with other girls, wasn't it? He was trespassing into dangerous territory, so if he didn't eat his breakfast and cut a hasty retreat as fast as he could —

"Tousaka-senpai, um, please don't talk about that in front of Senpai," Sakura pleaded nervously.

Saber hummed.

"You say 'it' will increase," she pointed out, oblivious to Sakura's discomfort, "but why do you avoid using specific terms, Rin?"

"Well, it's about those things you can't see," Rin explained nonchalantly. "Or, well, you can see Sakura's, so she doesn't count."

"S-so please don't talk about it!" Sakura pleaded again.

Shirou ignored the conversation as best he could and said nothing as he took a bite out of a piece of toast. He didn't need to pretend that he had no idea what, exactly, they'd been talking about, nor did he particularly want to find out.

There were some conversations that you just didn't get involved in, especially when it came to girls.

Under different circumstances, he mused as he ate, he might have been worried about Fuji-nee's absence, but with all the things that had been happening…well, he'd start being concerned if she was absent at dinner. Fuji-nee was a rather…spirited person, so she took things far more seriously than she really ought to, so she was probably still a bit upset about losing an argument to Rin and Saber.

Breakfast ended in relative silence. He'd been worried that things had moved too fast, that the girls might have problems with each other since they'd been thrown together much quicker than last time, but it seemed like they were getting along, so…

"I guess I was worried over nothing," Shirou mused as he cleaned up.

"Senpai," Sakura's voice asked from behind him. "Is it really okay to leave all the cleaning up to you?"

"Don't worry about it," Shirou said with a dismissive wave of his hand. He turned and smiled at her. "You have a club to go to. I can take care of this by myself, so you should get going, before you're late."

There was a pause, as though she were considering the truth of his words, then she smiled a little smile.

"Then I'll go on ahead, Senpai," she said. She gave a short bow to Rin, too, then left the living room.

That left Shirou, Rin, and Saber, the only three who knew of the Grail War.

"So," Shirou began slowly, "are we going to do anything about that Bounded Field?"

A ridiculous question, he knew. There wasn't anything to do about it but defeat Shinji. But things were changing. He was halfway competent, now, so Shinji might be more cautious. The best thing to do would be to force him out, and the only way Shinji would stop skulking in the shadows was if he had to reinforce the Bounded Field, or if it was ready to be activated.

If they did it right, they could do the former before the day was out.

"Bounded Field?" Saber asked curiously.

"Nothing," Rin pointed out lazily. "If this Master were halfway competent, he wouldn't have bothered to have his Servant confront you yesterday — there wasn't really any point to that. As long as we stick around after class again today, he's likely to strike again, whoever he is."

She turned the TV on with a click.

The news came on — it was the same as last time. Gas leaks, all over town. No, that was false, but the only explanation normal people could come up with for the mysterious symptoms and coma victims was gas leaks. Shirou knew better now. What was attacking the city, draining the people of their life-force and reducing otherwise healthy people to comatose dolls, was a Servant.

Caster.

The witch who had kidnapped Sakura and fed on the innocent people in the city was the same person behind these "gas leaks." Perhaps, then, he could not afford to leave her alone for so long. What he needed was the quickest route to victory.

And yet…

And yet, if he wasn't prepared by the time Caster, Berserker, and Rider were defeated, then Gilgamesh would confront them too soon, and that scene…

_Saber, bloody, beaten, defeated, barely conscious and barely cognizant. Blood all across the ground, green eyes sightless, hand shaking, voice faint — Saber at her lowest. Her armor broken, her clothes shredded, her body bleeding and weak._

"_Sh-Shirou…Now I understand…He defeated me…"_

…that scene would repeat itself.

"They're saying there was another gas leak incident over in the Shinto area…" Rin's musing snapped Shirou back to the present. He looked down to discover he'd been scrubbing the same dish clean for the last five minutes. "That's stupid. That kind of thing is happening here, too."

Alright, Shirou, he told himself. Time to play dumb.

"Come to think of it," Shirou said over his shoulder, "didn't those gas leaks start in the last week or so? Tousaka, is this anything like up at the school?"

Shirou felt Rin's eyes turn towards him for a second and felt Saber's eyes follow.

"At the school?" Saber questioned slowly.

"I'm impressed. You're a bit smarter than I gave you credit for," Rin said coolly. "Well, people are weakening for no apparent reason, right? They lose consciousness and wind up in the hospital in a coma. Their lives might not be in danger right now, but whether or not that will change depends entirely upon what the perpetrator decides."

Shirou felt his hands tighten around the plate and his lips pulled into a frown. Even knowing who was behind it, he couldn't stop himself from getting angry.

Involving innocent people…Those…Those…

He couldn't come up with any words.

"It's a Master, then?" he forced himself to ask.

Rin snorted.

"You shouldn't even need to ask," she said snidely.

"Rin," Saber began, "I don't think that you needed to be that harsh —"

"You knew things like this would happen," Rin pointed out. She ignored Saber completely. "That's why you're in the Grail War in the first place, isn't it? So you can stop guys from doing stuff like this? You shouldn't be surprised — the Master at school and this Master behind the 'gas leaks' are the norm. Guys like you are the odd ones!"

"Then tell me where he is," Shirou declared firmly, "and I'll go stop him myself."

No, he wouldn't. He couldn't. He wasn't ready, yet. Even knowing what was waiting for him made no difference if he didn't prepare himself for the fight and the consequences afterward. But arguing with Rin was always about bulldozing through her issues — as long as he was confident and forward, then the only thing she could criticize was his lack of preparation.

"It isn't that simple!" Rin shot back. "The Master who put up the Bounded Field at the school is a third rate hack, but this Master is first rate. He isn't killing anyone, and he's gathering power by absorbing life force from a distance so he can keep himself safe. Not only that, but this guy is absorbing life force from both Shinto and Miyama. Whoever this guy is, he's way beyond us."

"So?"

Caster was powerful, but Shirou had come a long way since the last time they had confronted her. With Saber at full strength, the only one they had to look out for was Kuzuki, and if they timed it right, then they could confront Caster before Kuzuki got home from his job at the school.

…But he'd still rather wait to confront Caster. At the moment, she was simply biding her time. That was fine, because so was Shirou. The only thing that made it difficult was that she was harming so many innocent people, and Shirou definitely didn't like that…

"_So_," Rin stressed the word, "before we even consider going after this Master, we have to know how strong he is, where he's hiding out, what kind of Servant he has —"

"So you don't even know where he is," Shirou concluded. Which wasn't entirely fair, he thought guiltily. He had knowledge that Rin didn't. It wasn't her fault that she didn't know as much as he did — how could she? He'd come from the future, just after the War ended, so he already knew the ins and outs of what would happen and who was hiding where. There was no comparing to that kind of foresight.

Rin's face flushed. She stood suddenly and turned away from him.

"I-I'm going to school," she declared after a moment. "I'll meet you at the main gate, Emiya."

Without further ado, she spun on her heel and left. What remained behind was an unsteady silence — Shirou wasn't exactly sure what to say. Even the first time through, he hadn't really gotten used to Rin's strange, awkward moments of inexplicable temper.

Really, all he'd been trying to say was that there was no way he could possibly seek out Caster if even she, the up-to-date, well-informed, first rate Magus, had no idea where to look (ignoring, of course, the fact that he already knew she was at the Temple).

"Rin can be a rather troublesome girl sometimes," Saber commented into the silence.

"Yeah…"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The fact that he was prepared for it did not make it easier to handle the sudden stab of agony that struck at his heart the moment he reached the school gates.

His bag dropped to the ground. His knees went weak and wobbly. His head spun like a top. The scent of blood hung oppressively in the air. His stomach threatened him with rebellion, and already he could taste the bile that was rising up in the back of his throat.

"Geez," Rin said callously, "is it gonna be like this every day until the Bounded Field is brought down? Get ahold of yourself, Shirou. This is just unsightly."

He probably deserved that. He hadn't been very fair to her after breakfast.

"I'm okay," Shirou breathed shakily. The look Rin gave him said quite clearly that she didn't believe him for a second. "No, really. I'll be fine in a minute."

Shirou was a bit embarrassed to admit that it took more than just a minute, but soon enough, the feeling in his stomach eased and his breathing came easier. The strength returned to his legs, so he reached down and grabbed his bag, then stood straight again.

"So, do we have any plans for later on?"

"Not really," Rin said with a shrug. "I mean, I figure we'll stay behind after school for a little while, poke around a bit, but unless this Master is as stupid as I thought, he probably won't try to confront us again today."

"So we're just going to wait?" Couldn't they diffuse it or something? Drain the Bloodfort's power the way they had last time, even if it only delayed things for a few days?

"There's not really anything else we can do," Rin told him. "We could delay it, but the better thing would be to confront this Master as soon as we can, before he can get more powerful or have his Servant drain the life force from more innocent students. So, we wait, and we hope this Master is stupid enough to try confronting us again."

Which wasn't very comforting. "Sounds like this whole thing depends upon a whole lot of luck."

"If you want to think of it that way," Rin said nonchalantly. "At any rate, I'll see you after school, Shirou. _Try_ not to get into trouble before then."

She gave him a short wave, then walked off.

"Guess there's not really anything I can do about it," Shirou mumbled to himself. He thumbed the piece of cloth stitched into his belt — that's where Caliburn was. As long as he had it on hand, as long as she didn't use her Noble Phantasm, he could fight Rider.

He took a step forward and started towards the main building, which housed his classroom. As much as he might have liked to skip school so he could work on the different plans he'd started, it simply wasn't feasible. Fuji-nee's reaction would make it pointless.

Which meant that, for now, he was stuck going to school.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Shinji was absent again.

Not that Shirou was surprised. Given his involvement with the Bloodfort and the missing students, there was no way Shinji would bother coming to class, not when he could be doing other nefarious things, and especially since it would put him at risk of being found out. There was no way Shinji would take any chances with that.

But where he was now…

If Shirou remembered correctly, then Shinji would be hiding out in the Archery clubhouse after school, waiting for Shirou to show up so he could try getting an ally. The first time, it hadn't worked, but Shinji had thrown him off enough that Shirou hadn't really suspected him as the Master behind the Bloodfort.

This time, it would backfire.

Shirou was prepared, this time, and he knew the truth — that Shinji and Rider were the ones responsible for the Bloodfort, that Shinji had no problems with killing the entire school if it meant making Rider more powerful, and (as he had begun to suspect) that the tip about the Master on the mountain was shared with the intention of having Shirou as a distraction so Rider could get in undetected.

The bell rang, signaling the end of school. Shirou stood and left his classroom on autopilot. His mind was focused almost entirely on his destination — the Archery Club's clubhouse.

Shirou wasn't stupid, though. As good as he had done before, Rider was still a Servant. The only way to beat her was to use another Servant.

For that, the books Rin had given him were very useful. The bond between Master and Servant was more than just a connection feeding Prana from one to the other. It was more than just a simple contract. A proper Master could communicate with his Servant using this bond, or even see through his Servant's eyes as clearly as he could see through his own.

Of course, Shirou wasn't exactly a proper Master, nor even a proper Magus, but that had little bearing on things. He doubted he was good enough to perform the spell that would let him see through Saber's eyes, nor did he have any particular reason to want to, but as long as the bond existed and as long as he knew enough about what he was doing, he could contact her through that bond and call her to his side.

_Without_ using a Command Seal.

Right then, right there, that was what he needed. He needed a method that would let him tell her to come to him, a method that would let him tell her that he needed her help. That bond, the bond that connected them as Master and Servant, was such a method.

Which is why, as his feet carried him towards the Archery Club's clubhouse, he focused himself inward, as he did when he held a bow, and found that bond connecting him to Saber. It was fragile, weak, and fragmented, but it should still be strong enough. It did not have to be perfect — _he_ did not have to be perfect — it just had to _work_.

He focused on that bond. He grasped it and used all the experience he had with crafting a Magic Circuit to hold onto that bond, and like speaking through a telephone, he strung together a thought, a mental message that he imagined coming through his lips, but did not actually say aloud.

"_Saber, I need your help."_

Somehow, deep in his belly, he knew it had been received.

That left only one thing.

Rin would be looking for him. She would probably tear into him when she found out what he was about to do, and she'd probably yell and scream and tell him how much of an idiot he was for doing it, but he couldn't stop. This was a chance. Here and now, he could beat Shinji and force him out of the War. Here and now, he could defeat one of the enemies who would carelessly sacrifice innocent lives in the course of the War. Here and now, he could save the entire school before ever they were in danger.

It was not an opportunity he could pass up.

"_I want to save everyone," _the ghost of a voice whispered in his ear.

He opened the door to the clubhouse. At once, his nose was assaulted by the coppery scent of blood and the oily, reptilian smell of snakes. He strode forward, across the changing room where students took off and put on their shoes, and with every step, the scent got stronger and stronger.

They were here.

He dropped his bag by the door and slid it open.

The room was shrouded in darkness. The dying sunlight did little to lift the gloom, but all the same, Shirou could see the magic circle pasted to the wall next to him as he glanced around the room.

It figured that Shinji would choose this place. In hindsight, knowing as he did that this was the place, it was incredibly obvious. Shinji was a member of the Archery club, after all. What place would he prefer more to set up his trap than the clubhouse itself?

"Looking for something, Emiya?"

A figure stepped out of the shadows, dressed in the boys' school uniform with dark hair and pale eyes — Shinji — and behind him was a tall, womanly figure dressed in black with long purple hair — Rider.

"Shinji," Shirou said calmly. His hand twitched and itched for Caliburn.

But…

One chance. That was it.

"Are you the one behind this, then?" he demanded solemnly.

Shinji smirked.

"Behind what?" Shinji asked airily. "I'm afraid I really have no idea what you're talking about, Emiya. I just came here to have a talk with y—"

"Don't play dumb," Shirou said sternly.

Shinji paused a moment. The smirk dropped for just a second, and then he turned his head away and lifted his nose into the air pompously.

"Oh, don't give me that look," he said. "I don't really want anything to do with these stupid Grail Wars, and if I guessed right, then you're in this thing against your will, too. I'm just taking some…defensive measures."

Shirou grimaced. Much of the same, then. Shinji had no regrets about setting up the Bloodfort, and he had no intention of telling the truth about it, either. The one chance Shirou had given him had just been rejected. That left only one option, now.

"Something like this isn't defensive, Shinji," he shot back reflexively.

"With a Magus like Tousaka around, ordinary defenses are useless," Shinji explained with a wide, sweeping gesture of his arms. The self-confident smile on his face gave him away. "That's why I have this—"

"Sorry," Shirou interrupted. He flicked on his Circuits and lifted his hands to his hip as though he were drawing a sword. "But if you think you're going to fool me that easily, you've got another thing coming."

The world halted. Caliburn materialized in his hand, and it seemed to take forever as he lifted it, inch by glorious golden inch, from its resting place. He swiped it down, then fell into the ready stance he had observed from Saber countless times before: right leg forward, left leg back, knees bent, both hands on the hilt and held near his right hip.

"H-hey, Shirou—"

Shirou said nothing; he bent forward a little, then pushed off his back foot and closed the distance between him and Shinji with his sword raised to strike.

"What the hell are you waiting for, Rider!?" Shinji screamed as be backpedalled.

Rider surged forward, and when Caliburn came to a halt, it was against the two nail-like daggers Rider favored. Of course. Rider was, after all, a Servant. No matter how fast Shirou was, he was still a human being, so in the instant it took Shirou to cross the distance and swing down, Rider could place herself in front of him and lift her spikes to block.

Shinji let out another scream and scrambled backwards and out the other door. He was getting away, and the only way to get the Bloodfort dropped was to force Shinji to have Rider drop it, which meant that he couldn't fight Rider and still expect to get to Shinji. If he wanted to get around Rider and corner Shinji, then he needed…

Saber.

"Damn it," Shirou cursed. Rider peered at him curiously and tilted her head to the side a little.

"Do you want a rematch?" she asked plainly.

Shirou flung himself backwards across the floor. Rider made no move to follow.

That meant nothing. With how big the room was, Rider could cross it in the span of a second if she really wanted to, and Shirou could do nothing about it. Every second he wasted trying to match her was time for Shinji to retreat. If Shinji managed to escape, then this would all be for nothing.

He couldn't waste time.

"Sorry," he said. "But I don't have time to play with you today."

He threw himself to the side and through the door, then raced through the changing room and towards the entrance to the clubhouse. If Rider decided to take him seriously, then there was nothing he could do to stop her short of trying to get in a blast from Caliburn. Trying to best her was the worst idea — he needed to focus on Shinji.

The air behind him whistled, and it was all he could do to duck forward as one of her nail spikes flew through the space his head had occupied just seconds before. Then, Rider was behind him, and the only thing he could really do was barrel through the clubhouse door and out into the courtyard.

He'd worry about the damage he'd just done to school property later.

There was Shinji, Shirou realized as he righted himself. Running towards the forest — towards escape, towards the one place he could go and hide and Shirou wouldn't be able to find him.

Shirou couldn't let him get away.

The chains rattled again. Shirou had to spin around to face her as she flung one of her nails at him again — his hands seemed to move of their own accord and Caliburn rang as it deflected the dagger up and into the air. Rider was upon him an instant later and brought the other dagger swinging around, clenched tightly in her fist.

Shirou deflected the second one, too, but Rider didn't press the attack. She didn't need to, he realized. All she needed to do was keep him busy long enough for Shinji to get away. She didn't need to win, she just had to not lose.

Damn it.

"You're pretty good," Rider told him flatly. There was only the slightest hint of praise in her voice. "A normal human wouldn't have been able to keep up this well for this long."

"That'd be a nice compliment," Shirou groused, "if it weren't for the fact that you're just stalling for Shinji to get away."

Rider tilted her head again.

"You really are good," she mused. "I thought you'd be too distracted with the fight to focus on my Master's escape. Of course, your attention to that particular detail might just," she lifted her daggers again, "get you _killed_."

She was in his face again, suddenly, too fast, and it was all he could do to move his head to the side and out of the way of the sharp tip of her dagger. It was still not quite fast enough, as the sharp tip dragged across his cheek and opened a cut just an inch or so beneath the corner of his right eye.

By the time his brain caught up with the damage she'd done, however slight, she had already pulled her arm back and was aiming for another strike. At that moment, he body finally reacted and his hands came up. Caliburn deflected her next attack, and by the look of surprise that dropped her lips open and left her brow wrinkled upwards, she hadn't expected him to react fast enough to parry the blow.

Which was good, he thought. He brought Caliburn down, but wasn't surprised when she threw herself backwards, flipped around, and landed daintily on her fingertips. For a moment, she was there in a handstand, and then her legs came down and she was crouched in the courtyard like some sort of cat stalking its prey. The light of the dying sun was splayed across her back, and the long curtains of silky pink hair lay again over her shoulders like a cloak.

A beautiful, exotic tigress. That was the impression he got of her. All that was missing was her licking her lips.

The moment was broken by a scream, and from the pitch of the voice, there was only one person it could possibly be.

Shinji.

"Tch."

Rider broke off and flung herself towards the forest in a blur. Shirou turned on his heel and started after her, but at that moment, a blue blur raced across the courtyard and slammed into Rider.

Saber had arrived.

"I'll leave Rider to you!" he shouted over at her. "I'm going after her Master!"

"I understand," Saber's voice called calmly. "Please leave this to me!"

He pushed himself forward and ran as fast as his legs would carry him. In a matter of moments, he had crossed the courtyard and rounded the back of the school. The forest loomed in front of him, painting in the last golden rays of sunlight, and another scream punctured the air.

Someone else had found Shinji.

Shirou threw himself into the copse of trees and followed the sounds of Shinji's screams through the trunks and branches that surrounded him.

"GET AWAY FROM ME, YOU CRAZY BITCH!"

Shinji's voice. But who…?

"Hold still! Hitting a moving target isn't that easy!"

Rin's voice. Shirou stopped a moment to let out a short, breathless laugh. Rin was the one who'd found Shinji.

That made everything a bit easier.

He started forward again, and he knew he was getting closer the moment he heard the whiz of Gandr shots flying through the air as Shinji screamed obscenities at Rin. Then, finally, he saw them through the trees, ducking and weaving around as Rin fired shot after shot and Shinji just barely escaped them every time. Every stray shot splashed impotently against tree trunks and branches, and the spots she hit dried and withered under her curse.

Shirou wasted no time. He changed his path and continued on, aiming to cut Shinji off. It helped that Shirou was faster than Shinji, and that Shirou also knew some magecraft, compared to Shinji, who had nothing more than that grimoire he'd tried to use last time. There was no way Shinji could possibly outrun him.

The distance closed. Every second, Shirou saw Shinji's retreating form get closer and closer. The space that separated them was vanishing faster than an ordinary human should be capable of, and Shirou…Shirou had not even needed to use reinforcement.

He pushed himself onward. He flung himself through the trees and into Shinji's path, then spun around on his heel and blocked the way forward. Shinji stumbled to a halt and panted desperately for breath, a stricken look of surprise and fear on his face.

Rin came up from behind. There was no place for Shinji to escape to, now, no route that would lead him to safety.

Shirou's features hardened. "Give up, Shinji."

"Sh-Shirou!"

"Hey — Shirou?" Rin skidded to a stop and looked faintly surprised.

"There's nowhere for you to run," Shirou said coldly. "Give up, Shinji."

"Y-you," Shinji began shakily. He growled. "You really expect me to do that? Like I'd give up that easily? Emiya, you—!"

"You don't have any other choice," Rin interjected mercilessly. It seemed she'd caught onto the situation rather quickly. "You can surrender, or we can force you to surrender."

"T-Tousaka!"

"No," Shirou said. "Before that…Shinji…take down the Bounded Field."

Rin looked surprised. "Wait a minute. This loser is the guy behind the Bounded Field?"

If she hadn't known that, then why was she chasing him?

Knowing Rin, he had probably asked her out.

"He admitted it to me a few minutes ago," Shirou told her. "He said that it was a defensive measure, and that he needed it to have a chance against you."

A wry smile pulled at her mouth. "Let me guess: he offered you the chance to team up against me, too, right?"

"Pretty much," Shirou confirmed. He looked back to Shinji. "Take it down, Shinji. I won't say it again."

A snarl curled Shinji's lips.

"Like I'd do something like that!" he raged. "You think that I'm just going to do whatever the hell you tell me to?"

It would have been nice, yes, but Shirou had already prepared himself for the alternative.

"If that's the way you want it," Shirou lifted Caliburn, "then I guess I'll just have to kill you."

Rin seemed faintly surprised at his tenacity. He supposed it must have seemed out of character for him to be so willing to kill a Master, but considering the situation…well, there wasn't really much choice. "Hold on, Shirou—"

"Now I know you're bluffing," Shinji smirked with dark triumph. "You don't have what it takes to kill me, Emiya. It's not in you."

Rin snorted and crossed her arms.

"Shirou might not be much of a Magus," she said, "but even he understands the first rule of what it means to be one: to be a Magus is to walk with death."

"What's _that _supposed to mean?" Shinji demanded.

"It means that if I have to, I'll kill you," Shirou clarified. "Now, shut down the Bounded Field."

"You can't really—"

Shirou lifted Caliburn up. The edge glinted in the dying sunlight, and Shirou saw real fear cross Shinji's face as he brought the sword swinging down.

"Okay! I'll do it! I'll do it!" Caliburn stopped at Shinji's neck. A bead of red trickled down Shinji's skin and Shirou breathed an internal sigh of relief. If he didn't have to, he'd rather not kill his oldest friend, no matter how much he'd steeled himself for the possibility.

"Rider!" Shinji called desperately into the wind. "Rider, damn it, take down the Bloodfort!"

There was a moment of pause, and then the sky turned red, the air filled oppressively with the smell of snakes and blood, and, suddenly, both vanished as though they'd never been there in the first place.

The Bloodfort had been taken down.

"There!" Shinji said. "See? It's down! It's down! Just lower that damn sword already!"

"Not good enough," Rin said stonily. "Taking down that Bounded Field doesn't do anything to guarantee you can't have her put it up again. Matou…Give up your Command Seals."

Shinji turned his head to look at her.

"What?" he demanded incredulously. "No way! Are you crazy or something? You can't expect me to do that! Without them, Rider wouldn't listen to me! There's no way I'm gonna give up my Command Seals —"

"It's either that," Rin said coldly, "or we just kill you and get it over with."

She lifted her left sleeve for emphasis and her arm glowed with pale blue markings. Shirou repressed a shiver. The first time he'd seen that, he'd been on the receiving end of her ire.

"Wait, wait!" Shinji waved his hands. "I-I've got some information! Y-yeah, if I tell you that, you'll let me go, right? Right, Emiya?"

"That's not —"

"There's a Master up on the mountain! S-she's been gathering lots of souls! That's all I know, I swear! Now let me go! Let me—"

"Idiot," Rin said. "We never agreed to anything like that. You either give up your Command Seals or you die. Those're really the only choices you have right now. Even if Shirou doesn't want to kill you, I'll have no problem with ending your life and ripping out your spare Command Seals—"

"Shirou!" Saber's voice interrupted.

That was all the warning they had. In the moments after Saber's yell, a purple-black blur had barreled past them and thrown Shirou and Rin to the ground. Rider came to a halt standing next to her Master as her long hair slowly settled about her shoulders again.

"What the hell took you so long!?" Shinji demanded furiously as he palmed frantically at the cut on his neck. "They were going to kill me!"

"Saber was keeping me busy," Rider explained plainly. "It seems that she is simply a far better Servant. I am no match for her."

"What? Then what the hell are you doing? We need to get out of here!"

"Calm yourself," Rider admonished lightly. "Saber may be my better…but even _she_ is no match for my Noble Phantasm."

The Pegasus, Shirou realized as he pulled himself back to his feet. Rider was about to use her Noble Phantasm. How? Did she actually have enough Prana to pull that off so soon? Last time, she'd had several days more preparation and the Bloodfort had actually been activated. Did she actually have enough Prana to unleash her Noble Phantasm?

"Shirou!"

Saber rushed to his side and placed herself between him and Rider. She held her invisible sword out in front of her defensively.

"I apologize," she said to him. "Rider managed to make it past me, Shirou."

Rider was one of the fastest Servants Shirou had seen in the War, so it was only natural. He couldn't fault her for not being quite as fast.

"Don't worry about it," Shirou told her. "We'll just—"

"Shirou, get down!" Rin shouted. "She's about to unleash the mana she was using to hold up the Bloodfort!"

The warning quickly became unnecessary. Rider had lifted one of her daggers, and, mercilessly, brazenly, she drove it into her own neck. Blood spurted out of the wound, a wound that should have been fatal, Servant or not, but the blood rose magically in the air and formed into a gigantic magic circle in front of Rider. At the center, surrounded by unintelligible runes, a design shaped into the likeness of an eye looked out at him.

"Noble Phantasm!" Saber's voice called. "She's about to use her—"

"Down!" Shirou ordered. He grabbed Saber by her shoulder and pulled her with him to the ground.

A brilliant flash of white light enveloped the area like a bomb, and then the wind was rushing past his ears and the ground was shaking as the Pegasus flew right over them and through the bottom floor of the school. The whole building shuddered and groaned as she blasted through it as though it were all a flimsy plank of wood, not the concrete and marble and stone that it was.

In a moment, it was over. A path of destruction was left behind, all jagged stone and exposed rebar and grooves carved in the earth. It was a miracle that the school had not been torn apart entirely when the Pegasus passed through it like a hot knife through butter.

And then came the pain, the burning agony that rushed down his spine and spread across his shoulders and back, and it was all Shirou could do to muffle the scream that tried to get past his lips into a groan in Saber's ear.

"Shirou!" Saber's verdant green eyes were peering worriedly into his, and if he hadn't been in pain, he might have been tempted to close those last few centimeters and kiss her.

But he couldn't. His back felt as though the skin had been stripped from it clear down to the bone, and it was all he could do to keep himself from screaming, _nevermind_ thinking of what he'd like to do to Saber, with Saber.

He couldn't take it. He couldn't. The pain was too intense, and all the sudden, there was a whooshing in his ears and he was standing again in that hell, that fiery conflagration that had nearly killed him ten years ago. The flames were rising all around him and the screams of dying people filled his ears, shrill, agonized, desperate and suffering. His body was hot, hot, _hot_, but the flames were hotter still. He was burning. He was burning up, every part of him, every single thing that made up Emiya Shirou was burning.

"Shirou!"

He was vaguely aware of Rin and Saber calling his name, but it was too distant, and it couldn't fully pierce the echo of death that filled his ears or the roar of the flames that consumed him, mind, body, and soul.

Then, everything turned black.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_A church, a cathedral of such majesty and magnificence that it put most others to shame. White light shining from the circle beneath her feet. Two figures, standing, struck dumb by the sight of her, one male, one female, one dark, one light. Her body was powerful, incredibly powerful, and the sword in her hands was comfortable and familiar._

_She met the dark one's eyes, pools of blackness that seemed devoid of life, but which burned with purpose._

_"I am Servant Saber. Upon your summoning, I have come forth," she said solemnly. A formality. She already knew who had brought her to this world and time. "I ask of you: are you my Master?" _

Shirou woke up abruptly. His vision swam for the briefest of moments, and then he could make out the inside of his living room. The tick of the clock was louder than it had any right to be, and as feeling came back to his body, he realized that he was lying face down and bandages had been wrapped around his chest and back.

He worried, for a brief moment, that Sakura had visited in the intervening time between the events at the school and him waking up, but there was nothing he could do about it. He could hope that she hadn't, and so hadn't seen him in the condition he was in, but nothing more than that.

He tried to lift himself up, but the moment his back curved with the motion, harsh tingles of burning pain lanced over his back and he fell back to the floor with a thump as the air left his lungs.

"Shirou!" Saber's voice cried softly.

"Well, that was stupid of you," Rin's voice said sardonically.

Saber was at his side a moment later and set a hand upon his shoulder to keep him down. He subdued a brief flash of annoyance — he'd survived far more serious wounds none the worse for wear, and she should know that — except that she couldn't, because this time through, this was the first major injury he'd suffered since her summoning.

"You shouldn't try to move," she insisted gently. "You'll aggravate your injury."

True enough, but he'd been through far more debilitating pain than this. A few unpleasant tingles had _nothing_ on the curse of All the World's Evils. He'd just been surprised, that's all, and that was why he'd fallen back down.

"It shouldn't be much of a problem, actually," Rin corrected her. She still had the same sardonic tone she'd used before. "At the rate his body's healing, he should be fine by morning."

Something in Shirou's brain clicked. Rider. Shinji. The Bloodfort being taken down, Rider using her Noble Phantasm, the burns he must've suffered on his back.

Avalon. It was healing him.

A part of him wryly thought that Rin was wrong. The injury would probably be fully healed within another hour or two.

Shirou tried to get up again and laid his hand over Saber's when she tried to push him back down. Her concern was heartwarming, but really, he'd been through so much worse.

"I'm alright," he assured her.

"It's astounding, really," Rin told him as he sat up. "The rate at which your injury healed…I can't say I've seen anything like it."

"You'd know better than me," Shirou remarked. A lie, and he felt that she should have noticed it right away, but it slid right past her as though he were speaking fact.

"The only thing I can think of is that you're somehow getting it from Saber," she said with a thoughtful frown. "But that shouldn't be possible either. I've never heard of a Servant's powers bleeding over to the Master. Quite frankly, it's just ridiculous. And dangerous."

She lanced him with a glare. "The more of Saber's prana is leeched away to heal you, the less she has available for herself. If you keep getting injured, then eventually Saber will be too weak to fight. What happens if Berserker and his Master come after us while Saber's weakened? We'd all be slaughtered, that's what."

"It's not like I planned on getting hurt," Shirou told her a little more firmly than necessary. Yes, he was well aware of all the things that could go wrong, thank you. He didn't need to hear it again.

"I told you to meet with me after school," she bit out. "You and I were supposed to go looking around after classes ended to see if we could find out more about the Master behind the Bounded Field. Don't get me wrong. I'm grateful that we solved as much as we did earlier, but you could just as easily have gotten yourself killed like that, going off by yourself! And you still almost did!"

"Don't give me that," Shirou shot back. "I wanted to check out the clubhouse, and when I got there, I felt something off about it, so I checked it out. It's not like I _planned _on fighting Shinji and Rider today."

_Lies_, a voice in the back of Shirou's head hissed at him. _Lies, lies, lies_. He'd been planning the confrontation with Shinji for most of the day, and he'd also been planning exactly what he would tell Rin when she confronted him on it, as she was doing now. And he was lying to her face about it.

"I agree with Rin," Saber interjected. "You needlessly put yourself in danger, Shirou, and it could have cost you your life. However," she turned to look at Rin, "Rin, I also agree with Shirou. While what he did was certainly reckless, when it comes down to it, today was still a success. We have ascertained the identity of Rider's Master, and we have also removed the Bounded Field that threatened the school. We may not have defeated them, but it was most certainly a victory."

Victory? In a sense, yes it had been, Shirou could acknowledge. But actual victory, the kind he would have wanted, would have been Rider's defeat. If it had been at all feasible, he would have had Saber use Excalibur, but the collateral damage to the school would've been catastrophic.

Rin scowled. "Alright, fine. I can see I'm not going to get anywhere with you two." She waved her hand dismissively. "But what about what Matou told us? About the Master on the Mountain? It's probably the same one responsible for all the stuff we heard on the news this morning. What do you plan on doing about that, Shirou?"

Shirou sat back and forced himself not to wince as his back twinged with pain.

"Nothing, right now," he said. "We have no idea what kind of Master is up there or what kind of defenses they might have set up. I don't like it. It seems like a trap."

"We're in agreement, then," Rin said with a cool smile.

"If it were at all an option, I would disagree," Saber said. "I would like to confront this Master at once, trap or no. However," she glanced at Shirou, "Shirou is injured, and Rider seems to be a more immediate concern. It would perhaps be best to defeat her and her Master before worrying about another."

"A frontal assault?" Rin asked amusedly. "Don't you think that's a bit too direct, Saber? Expected? Predictable?"

"It is the only one that would work," Saber told her. "There is a Bounded Field erected over the Temple, and if a Servant enters by any means other than the main gates, their abilities are drastically reduced. The only viable option would be to attack from the front, even though that would give the enemy plenty of warning."

"Definitely a trap, then," Rin mused. A trap, yes, with Assassin waiting at the gates ready to jump out at them.

"It's all a moot point, right now," Shirou interrupted. "The best thing to do would be to go out tomorrow and find Rider before she can set up that Bounded Field again. Taking on the Temple is something that'll have to wait. To be completely honest, I'd like to wait until Archer is healed before we try it. Two Servants would be better than one."

Rin smirked. "So you aren't completely reckless. Congratulations, Shirou. My respect for you has just gone up a notch."

A rarity, to be sure, but not entirely relevant.

"Shirou," Saber looked offended, "there would be no issue with attacking the Temple myself. We do not need Archer to ensure our success!"

"But we don't know who's up there," Shirou argued. "We've faced Berserker, Rider, and Lancer, and we know Archer. That only leaves Assassin and Caster."

Assassin, Saber could beat, but Caster was trouble if she wasn't handled correctly.

"That is fine," Saber said stubbornly. "My Magical Resistance will render Caster's magic ineffective, and no Assassin could hope to match a Servant of the Saber class. Neither is a threat, Shirou. The only concern they pose is that they are participants of this War and that the Master in control of them is harvesting Mana from innocent people."

If only it were that easy.

"And what if they're both up there?" Shirou challenged. "Taking on one Servant is fine, Saber, but if they're both up there, there's no way you can defeat both at the same time and still protect Rin and I. Worse — you might have Magic Resistance, but Tousaka and I don't. If it _is_ just a Caster, then she doesn't even need to hit you, she just has to find an opening and get _me_."

Saber backed down. "A fair point," she acknowledged grudgingly. "Fine then, Shirou. We shall wait for Archer before confronting the Master at the Temple."

"Is this your first fight?" Rin asked with a sly smile. "How cute."

Shirou felt his face heat up and saw Saber's cheeks turn a bright red.

"What about Sakura, though?" he changed the topic. "Was she here earlier? And Fuji-nee?"

"Fujimura-sensei is probably dealing with the aftermath of our fight at the school," Rin informed him. "I imagine that authorities are all over the place by now, but it shouldn't be an issue. I'd guess that the school will probably be closed for a while as they deal with the damage. As for Sakura, I gave her a call earlier to let her know that you were feeling a bit under the weather and that it seemed like something really contagious, so she should stay home for today."

Which was all good. Rin was certainly a very helpful ally.

"Wow," Shirou smiled, "you really do have your bases covered, don't you, Tousaka?"

She flushed for a moment, then huffed and looked away.

"Well, someone has to. If I wasn't here to pick up the slack, you would've revealed the Grail War within the first day or two. You're lucky that we're allies."

Shirou looked over at Saber, who tilted her head at him when she met his eyes. He thought of the words she had said to him upon that hill, just as the sun rose, just before she vanished.

"_I love you,"_ the ghost of her voice whispered in his ear.

"Yeah," he said plainly.

_I really am lucky._

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**I repeat: I am now on Twitter at JamesDFawkes or James D. Fawkes. You can expect somewhat regular updates about story progress posted there.**

**So, apparently the information I got about making the Black Keys' blades immaterial was misinformation. To rectify that, without retconning, I adapted another of the Church's tricks: hiding the Caliburn in a piece of cloth, like Black Keys are hidden in pages of the bible. Of course, the Church uses Sacraments, so Rin's trick is simply the magecraft equivalent thereof. Rin _is_ a genius, after all.**

**Also, I officially declare that this story is **Utopia Shipping. **It is also called **Fate Shipping**, **Avalon Shipping**, **Sword Shipping**, and **Sheath Shipping**. In case you haven't figured it out yet, those're the terms I've coined for the SaberxShirou pairing. If this were ShirouxSaber Alter, this would be **Dystopia Shipping**. If it were UBW Good End ShirouxSaberxRin, then it would be **Contract Shipping**.**

**Yes, I have a list of terms I made for the different ships it's possible to sail in FSN and FZ. It's nowhere near complete, but I've got quite a few. Not all of them are hetero, either, because I promised myself I would be indiscriminate when making that list, so there're yaoi and yuri pairings on it, too. Some of them, though, made even _me_ scratch my head.**

_**Nor aware of gain.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	6. Behold A Pale Horse

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter VI: Behold A Pale Horse  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

In the aftermath of the Bloodfort, the first time, not this second chance, Shirou had told himself that there weren't miracles like the one he had committed this time. There was no do-over, no second chance to get things right. You could not change the past.

Moreover, it was a great insult, to all those who had suffered and those who had loved the victims, to want to go back and redo things just because he thought they were inconvenient or disastrous. It was impossible, he had told himself, impossible to take something that had already happened and make it so that it hadn't happened. It was impossible.

And even if, by some miracle, it _was_ possible, it _shouldn't_ be done. Even if it were possible to go back in time and stop all the tragedies, it shouldn't be done. This thing, this tragedy, had happened, and if he went back and stopped it, then for what reason had those people suffered? If he went back and stopped that fire, the tragedy that had forged Emiya Shirou into the person he was now, then the suffering of those who had died in that fire would lose all meaning.

And yet…

And yet, Shirou found himself uniquely positioned to stop the tragedies of the Fifth Grail War before they happened. He found himself in a position to stop Caster and Kuzuki, who were draining the life force from the innocent townspeople, and Rider and Shinji, who had nearly consumed the entire school in their greed. He was in a position to stop Gilgamesh from ever hurting Saber and Kotomine from using Illya to try and summon down the Grail.

And so, despite his feelings about it, despite the fact that he had said to both Kotomine and Saber that taking away the events that had caused suffering didn't do any good, Shirou changed the past. He stopped Rider before she could harm anyone with her Bloodfort. He was preparing to face Gilgamesh and Caster and Kotomine, so he could stop them, too.

It was hypocritical and he knew it. But he had a chance, now. He had been forced back to the beginning of the War and he had the power to change it. He knew the players and he knew the game. He could save people.

Despite that, if he was offered a third chance at the end of this War, he would not take it, not even if something went horribly wrong. This second chance was a blessing. He had not wanted it or asked for it, but it had been given to him, even if the intent behind it had been malicious. He would live with the results of this blessing. He would accept them and he would not go back to change them if a disaster struck.

But it did bother him that he was betraying the words he had spoken to Saber in front of Kotomine. So he wasn't surprised when he woke up the next morning from a nightmare about the original events of the Bloodfort, where Kotomine had been laughing at him in the background and Shinji had been tearing the faces off of Fuji-nee, Sakura, and Rin, cackling all the while, and Saber had been defeated — killed — by the Pegasus.

Then, he was staring into a mirror, and Archer's hardened face, bronzed and crowned with white hair, stared back at him with steely gray eyes.

— _I Am tHe bOnE oF my SWoRd —_

It was to that image that Shirou awoke, and in the grim twilight of the early dawn, he could see Archer's face looking back at him, looming out of the darkness, before his eyes adjusted and he found himself staring at the door to the side room connected to his bedroom. It took a short, sudden gasp for him to realize that he hadn't been breathing.

Touch returned to him next, and he discovered that he had rolled onto his side at some point in the night and pulled Saber, who was sleeping silently, into his arms. He felt his face flush, and the thump of his heart as he looked down at her peaceful expression drove away the remnants of the nightmare.

God, he could get used to waking up like that.

Carefully, so as not to wake her, Shirou pulled his right arm free and untangled himself from the blankets, then pulled them back up over her. With that taken care of, he stole a selfish moment to look at her, at her beautiful face, at the peaceful expression that graced her lips, at the silken gold that was her hair, and he fell in love with her all over again.

He allowed himself a small smile and turned to leave. Breakfast needed to be cooked, and his back was fine (didn't even twinge), so he should get right on it if he wanted to be done in time for Sakura and Fuji-nee.

"Shirou."

Her voice stopped him. When he twisted his torso to look behind him, she was sitting up on the futon and staring at him with cool green eyes.

"You have awakened?" she asked calmly.

"…Yeah," he said. "Just a minute ago, actually. I was about to go make breakfast, so if you want to sleep in for a little bit longer…"

Her face screwed up for a moment, and then she threw off the covers, stood, and marched up to him with a dissatisfied frown on her lips.

"I cannot ignore what you just said," she told him bluntly. "You were injured yesterday, Shirou. Your body needs rest, so recovery should be your first concern. Rin will prepare breakfast, so you should concentrate on healing chiefly and worry about other things only once your injury is mended."

He frowned back at her and turned to face her fully. He remembered a similar conversation, wherein she had stated much the same as she was now. The difference was that he had actually still been injured at the time, so his wounds had not yet healed all the way, but despite the fact that she had had something of a point, his own health had not been nearly as pressing a concern as stopping Shinji from setting up another base.

Her point was moot, this time. His injury had healed, far faster than he had anticipated. There wasn't even a scar to mark the damage Rider had done to his back with Pegasus.

"I won't," Shirou told her firmly. "Even if my injuries weren't completely healed already, I wouldn't go back to bed and rest when Shinji's out there. There's no way I could consider my own health important when there's a chance Shinji could set up the Bloodfort again."

He expected her to argue back immediately, but she didn't. She looked surprised — a miniscule widening of her eyes and her mouth falling open just the slightest — and then turned immediately towards wary cynicism.

"Your injuries have healed?" Saber asked him with careful slowness.

"Yeah," he said simply.

She gave him a curious look, as though she were measuring him.

"Rin was right," she said at length. "Your body's ability to heal itself is astounding. And you have no inkling as to the cause?"

"None." Even as he said it, he knew nervous the shifting of his leg gave him away.

Saber's eyes narrowed. "I suspect you are lying to me, Shirou."

Crap, crap, crap. Say something, he told himself.

"I have an idea," the words tumbled out of his mouth. He blamed the early morning for his near-slip. "But I don't know if it's right, so I don't want to say anything until I know for sure."

She gave it a moment's thought, then nodded. Shirou breathed a mental sigh of relief.

"I understand," she said. "Then if you are serious about pursuing Rider and her Master, Shirou, it would be best to make all due haste."

"You're alright with going after them?"

A small smile curved Saber's lips.

"As my Master told me at the beginning of this War," she explained, "he is participating for the sole purpose of reducing the innocent casualties, and that is an ideal I can agree with."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"You're going to look for Shinji?"

"Yeah," Shirou said. "I want to find him before he can find another place to set up that Bloodfort."

Rin shrugged and set down her chopsticks. Breakfast had just ended — he'd forgotten that Sakura thought he was sick and Fuji-nee was dealing with the fallout of Rider's Pegasus, so he'd been surprised at first that they weren't there.

"I guess I can understand that," she told him as she rested her chin on her palm. "But with all that said…you can win, can't you? I warn you, Shirou, if you tell me that you were going to go after a Master without any hopes of winning, I'll laugh at you."

When she said stuff like that, it became all the clearer that the Tousaka Rin the school knew was nothing more than a cleverly designed mask. Not that he hadn't figured that out rather quickly, just that it sort of…reinforced the fact.

He was ready, though. Shinji was a threat, and one he intended to neutralize.

"Shinji's not a Magus," he explained. "The only thing he has is that book he was carrying around — a grimoire, right? Against someone like that, I can win. No, I _will_ win."

Because there was no other option. Defeat wasn't acceptable. More than simply not _wanting_ to lose, he wasn't _allowed_ to lose. He couldn't accept it. There was only victory. Defeat wasn't even acknowledged as a possibility.

Rin gave him a smug smile that was more like a smirk.

"And what about you, Saber?" she asked. "You don't have any problems with fighting Rider?"

"There should be no problem," Saber said simply. "I have already determined Rider's ability, and it is no competition for mine."

An understatement. As a Servant, Rider was not especially strong — no doubt that had something to do with her Master, at least partly. Compared to Saber, who was a Servant classed "most excellent," Rider's only real advantage was her willingness to play dirty.

Rin arched an eyebrow. "Even accounting for that Noble Phantasm she used yesterday?"

Saber frowned and looked away uncomfortably.

"I'm afraid I didn't see it," she admitted. "I was too concerned with Shirou's safety, and so I cannot confidently gauge the limits of Rider's Noble Phantasm."

Rin hummed.

"I can't blame you," she said reassuringly. "I didn't get too good a look at it either. Based upon the damage it did to the school, though, I think it's safe to assume that whatever it is, it's not an Anti-Personnel Noble Phantasm. That said, it would've destroyed the school completely if it was an Anti-Fortress Noble Phantasm, so I imagine it must be Anti-Army."

"Yes, that sounds about right," Saber agreed. "It was a powerful Noble Phantasm capable of decimating an armored contingent. At that sort of level and containing that much raw Prana, it could only have been a Divine Mystery. As she is a Rider, I can only conclude that the creature she called upon was nothing less than one of the Phantasmal Species."

Rin hummed again.

"You'd be right," she said thoughtfully. "I managed to get a pretty good look at her stats — her Riding skill is ranked A-plus. That sort of skill is enough for her to mount a Divine Beast, so I don't think it's much of a stretch to imagine that whatever that creature was can be classified under that category. But then…"

She smiled slyly and looked at Saber. "But then, _your_ Noble Phantasm is an even _stronger_ Divine Mystery, isn't it? Excalibur, the greatest sword ever crafted. Well. I suppose I'll just have to see, won't I? If you come back, then your sword is even more powerful than a Divine Beast."

"She doesn't have to beat Rider," Shirou interjected. "I just have to beat Shinji and force him to give up his Command Seals."

If Rider and Shinji could be beaten without Excalibur, that would be best. Saber was definitely a stronger than she had been before, and she hadn't used up as much energy to heal the wound from Gáe Bolg since she hadn't been injured this time, but using Excalibur would drain her dangerously low on Mana, and the only method Shirou knew of to restore it would be the Transfer Ritual they'd used in the forest the first time. As he hadn't yet come across it in what he'd read of the books Rin had given him, he couldn't be sure that he had an explanation for why he knew of it that would satisfy Rin, and he needed Rin to actually perform the ritual because he didn't really know how.

"That'll be more difficult than it was before," Rin pointed out. "Shinji knows now that you won't accept anything less than that, and so does Rider. They're not going to hold anything back, so you and Saber shouldn't, either."

She was right. Damn it. If it came down to it and Rider used her Pegasus, then the only option Saber had to beat it was to use Excalibur, and he'd be right back at square one.

Right, then. Time to call in the cavalry.

"What about you, Tousaka? This'd go a whole lot faster if there were two of us looking for Shinji instead of just one."

She smiled coldly and stood. "I'm afraid not, Shirou. I have something I need to take care of, so I guess you and Saber will have to take care of this by yourselves. Happy hunting!"

She turned and left.

So then…the only thing he could really do was make sure he got Shinji to surrender his Command Seals before Rider could use her Noble Phantasm. That wouldn't be a problem, except in the case that they chose the same building as last time, or really, any significantly tall building. No matter how quickly he could run, making it up all those floors using just the stairs would take far too long.

Damn.

Shirou crossed his fingers and uttered a prayer beneath his breath.

That was about the only thing he really _could_ do. That, or learn how to fly.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

It was seven-thirty when Shirou set out with Saber. The road was still and quiet — normally, students would have been heading off to school, but with the large hole that had been blown clear through the building, classes had been cancelled until everything had been investigated and repaired.

Shirou wasn't sorry. The lack of school would make it far easier to act and prepare than it would have been otherwise simply by virtue of having more time. He promised himself that he would sit down and finish that book at the earliest convenience.

With any luck, that would be tomorrow.

"So," Saber said into the silence, "the school is to be shut down temporarily."

It was a bit odd. Saber wasn't an especially talkative person, and what she had just said sounded closer to idle gossip than a relevant question.

"Rider's Noble Phantasm did a lot of damage to the building," Shirou explained. "Before they can even think of starting school back up, they have to inspect the damage to make sure the whole building isn't in danger of collapse and repair the sections that were destroyed. On top of that, the police are gonna want to investigate it and see if they can't find clues to who did it. School will probably be cancelled for at least a month."

"I see," Saber nodded. "Taiga will be very disappointed."

The image of Fuji-nee screaming about the injustice of it all brought a smile to Shirou's lips.

"Well, that's Fuji-nee for you."

"Indeed." There was a small pause. "I am surprised that Sakura didn't visit this morning to check up on you. I would have thought that she would want to see just how serious your 'illness' was."

"It might sound mean of me, but I'm glad she didn't," Shirou said. "It makes things a lot easier if I don't have to worry about Sakura, so the fact that she didn't come this morning is actually really convenient."

"I understand," Saber said kindly. "I don't think it especially mean of you not to want to worry about her when you head towards a battle, Shirou. Being distracted in a fight is a sure path to defeat."

He stopped a moment and glanced at her, then started walking again. It was easy to forget, sometimes, that Saber had such a great experience behind her, that she wasn't a normal girl by any definition of the word.

"I guess you would know, huh?" he mused. "King Arthur…I can't even imagine what it must have been like."

Of course, so saying, the Dream Cycle had helped rectify that. He had seen her life, all her successes and all her failures, in his dreams. He knew her better than anyone else, and so because he knew her, he knew that she, more than anyone else he had ever met, needed saving most of all.

"It was not easy, to be certain," she admitted. "I cannot regret the good I did for my people, but all the same…The tragedies that plagued the end of my rule…"

Shirou pretended that he didn't know about her wish to go back and redo the selection of the King of Britain, nor that he saw the soft, regretful expression on her face.

"Tragedies always cause pain and suffering," Shirou said with conviction. "Even so…The tragedy of the fire from ten years ago…I wouldn't go back and stop it. Tragedies are tragedies, but even if I could go back and stop that fire, I wouldn't. People suffered and died. If I went back and stopped that tragedy from happening, then why did those people suffer? Why did those people die? To go back and stop it would remove all reason for it."

He felt her eyes on his face, but pretended not to notice that, either.

"So I won't," he said simply. "That tragedy happened. Those people suffered and those people died. I survived. On that day, with all those people crying out for salvation, only to be forsaken, I was saved, so it's the responsibility of Emiya Shirou to carry the weight of that tragedy on his shoulders."

There was a moment of silence as she tore her eyes away from him, and he feared for a moment that he might have upset her.

"You're a very strong person, Shirou," she said quietly. "Few your age, or even many years your senior, have such a mature outlook on the horrible events of the world."

Shirou didn't reply, because at that moment, they found themselves before the Matou mansion.

"We're here," he announced quietly.

Without a word, Saber walked up and pressed her bare hand against the gates. She stood there for a long silent moment with her eyes closed and her head bowed, and for an instant, Shirou thought that maybe Shinji actually had retreated into the house, but then her hand dropped back to her side and she shook her head.

"They are not here," she told him.

He hadn't thought so, but it was always good to check. He had confronted Shinji several days earlier than he had the first time, so it wasn't impossible that Shinji and Rider had simply retreated to the Matou house to recoup their losses.

Except that they apparently _hadn't_ retreated to the Matou house, which made things much easier. Like this, he didn't have to worry about dragging Sakura into the chaos of the Grail War, and that was how he preferred it.

"Yeah," he said aloud. "I thought as much. Shinji's not the type to run and hide when he's been beaten like that."

"Then you think he will construct another Bloodfort?" Saber asked.

"Definitely. Shinji isn't a Magus, so he can't provide Rider with Mana. If he wants to get back at us for yesterday, then he has to gather some, first. That means tall buildings that have a lot of people during the day, and for a place like that, Shinto is our best bet."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The morning passed in relative silence and without success. To make sure that Shinji hadn't gone and switched things up on him, Shirou had her check each of the largest buildings as they wound their way down the main road towards Shinto. When his stomach growled, Saber insisted that they stop to eat, so they sat down at a simple, family-run restaurant and quietly ate lunch. After that, they started searching again immediately, and eventually crossed the bridge into Shinto.

The afternoon whittled away and the sun slowly dropped lower in the sky, but still, they had no success. Shirou tried to tell himself that they just weren't checking the right buildings, but as the afternoon drug on into night, he was forced to admit that he was simply avoiding the building where Shinji had been the first time because he knew what would happen if Shinji and Rider actually _had_ chosen that same building to stage their ambush.

As it became clear that they weren't at any of the other buildings, however, and the clock turned closer and closer to midnight, Shirou grudgingly decided that there was only one last place they could be.

So, feeling nervous and frustrated all the while, Shirou led Saber into the station.

The effect was immediate.

Barely had they set foot in the station, crowded with people, than did an oppressive sensation settle down upon them, followed swiftly by the smell of blood and snakes.

"Shirou!"

"I know."

Damn it.

"They're not nearby, but most certainly, they are watching. This sensation…This is probably meant to provoke us."

Damn it all to hell. There was no other option.

"Then I guess we'll just have to follow them, won't we?"

Saber nodded. "I can track the magical energy. Shirou…Please be careful."

She led him to the office district, as he knew she must. He couldn't be sure, exactly, but Rider seemed to have chosen the tallest building she could find, both this time and last. He understood perfectly well why — atop the tallest building, she didn't have to worry about any other buildings getting in her way. In that sense, perhaps fighting in an open field on the edge of town would have served her just as well, but Shinji wanted to set up another Bloodfort, which meant that he would never have tried a confrontation out in the old rice fields.

The office district was deserted, and it was only then as he thought that he knew it would be that he realized just how wrong he could have been. This confrontation was happening several days before it would have if he hadn't changed anything, so it was not outside the realm of possibility that it could have been crowded with people this night instead of the other.

Damn it. He needed to start thinking about this stuff more.

The impressive intent in the air sharpened, and Shirou had only a moment before the whistle of a projectile hissed into his ear.

"Shirou!"

Like an acrobat, Saber leapt up into the air and over his head before he could do anything and effortlessly deflected Rider's dagger. The attack had been aimed down for the top of his head, which meant that the only place Rider could be was…

And there she was, clinging to the side of the building like a spider, with her long, long hair hanging limply down in front of her. It would have been much easier for her, Shirou mused, if she had either tied it back or cut it shorter.

Even from the distance that separated them in the night, Shirou could see her smile and sensuously lick her lips.

"You wait here!" Saber ordered. In an instant, the blouse, skirt, hose, and boots she had been wearing were replaced with gleaming armor and a gold, blue, and white dress. "I'll go after her!"

"Saber, wait!"

She ignored him and kicked off the ground, leaping straight at Rider. They clashed once in midair, their faces illuminated for an instant under a shower of sparks, then started a mad dash up the side of the building. Distantly, he could see them, two blurs, clashing again and again as they rose towards the rooftop.

The rooftop. Where Shinji would be.

He needed to get up there quickly and beat Shinji, or else Saber would be forced to use Excalibur and there would be nothing he could do to save her.

Damn it all.

The elevator, miraculously, was still on when he broke into the building, so he flung himself into it and jammed the button that would take him as far as the elevator could go. The doors closed slowly, and with a jerk, the elevator began to rise, but it felt like an eternity before the light above the door changed from "1F" to "2F," then again to "3F" and "4F."

He tore his eyes away from the lights and took a deep, calming breath, then flipped his Circuits on — the hammer in his head cocked back, then fired, and warmth filled his body. He reached down for his hip and grasped an imaginary hilt, then pulled upwards. A solid weight fell into his hand, and when he opened his eyes, he held Caliburn.

The elevator jerked to a halt — it had gone as far as it could go.

Like he had last time, he cursed the fact that it didn't go all the way to the roof and flung himself out the doors, then immediately began climbing the stairs. He ran up them as fast as his legs would carry him, ignoring the burn of his muscles, ignoring the ache of his lungs. He needed to reach the roof. He needed to beat Shinji before Saber had to use Excalibur.

Damn it, his body could tire out after that. He didn't have _time_ for it now.

He turned up another set of stairs, and suddenly, the door to the roof loomed ahead of him. He put on an extra spurt of speed, and the moment his hand touched the knob, he flung the door open.

The wind was strong.

That was the first thing he noted, and he cursed again. Shinji was hiding up there somewhere, and it would be impossible to find him by hearing alone with the wind throwing everything around.

"Shirou?!"

Saber looked back at him, and beyond her, he could see Rider leering from atop her Pegasus. Damn it, damn it, _damn it_. He hadn't been fast enough.

No, he couldn't think like that. He just needed to —

A laugh echoed across the rooftop. It came from everywhere and nowhere at once. Finding Shinji by sound would be impossible, and without some sort of magical energy to announce his presence, Shinji could be hiding anywhere and Shirou wouldn't be able to find him.

"Do you see it now, Emiya?! This is the difference between our powers! You don't have a chance!" More laughter. "This is it for you and your Servant, Emiya! But don't worry. You and I go way back. We have a huge history together, so I'll make your death as quick and painless as possible! Go on, Rider! Start with the woman!"

"Damn it!"

"Shirou, you…" Saber's head bowed, and in the tenseness of her shoulders, he could read anger.

Damn it.

Rider gave a soft laugh. "It seems playtime is over."

She placed her hands upon the Pegasus's neck and gave it soft, loving strokes — it was such an incongruous image, the deadly black against the gleaming white of the Beast's fur.

_Damn it_.

"As my Noble Phantasm is powerful, it isn't fit for use on the ground, because it draws far too much attention," Rider said silkily. "I couldn't use it as much as I wanted — there are still other Masters and Servants to think of, after all. Up here, though, there's no chance of uninvited onlookers watching me, so I can use it as much as I like."

A golden thread formed in her hands, leading all the way to the Pegasus's mouth and shining brilliantly.

"So then," Saber started lowly, "that is your Noble Phantasm, Rider?"

"It is," she confirmed. Rider looked like the cat who ate the canary. "Generally, he's too kind and doesn't have a taste for battle, so I have to use something like this to get him to fight!"

A storm erupted around Saber's invisible sword and Shirou recognized immediately what was about to happen as Rider snapped the reins and Pegasus dove, only to pull sharply up just feet from Saber's head. She was going to come back around once she got more momentum, hence why she was climbing higher and higher into the air, and Saber intended to meet her with Excalibur.

"Damn it! Saber!"

Bursts of wind unwound from Excalibur, layering outwards one after another. Above, the Pegasus flew higher and higher, rising as if to strike the moon, then arced back and swooped down towards them. Shirou could no longer distinguish the beast from the light it emitted, and it looked more like a comet than anything living.

Over the howl of the wind, Rider called out her Noble Phantasm.

"BELLEROPHON!"

"You know, Rider," Saber began quietly, "I, too, find this place, so high up, to be advantageous! Up here, I have no need to worry about scorching the earth with my sword!"

The seal was broken. The raging tempest that had consumed her sword was dispelled. Shirou could only gaze upon the magnificence of Excalibur, the golden radiance that promised victory, as Saber readied it at her side and faced the shooting star that streaked for her like lightning.

"EX —" she swung "— CALIBUR!"

From her blade flew a brilliant golden light that outshone even the moon. It cut through the air and consumed Rider, then kept on going and sliced through the clouds. For one wild second, through the frustration that filled him at his failure, Shirou thought it would go on to cleave the moon.

For a single moment, a second sun illuminated the night.

In his chest, something swelled, something sorrowful and hopeful all at once. It was a feeling impossible to describe, a feeling of wonder that left him in awe, despite having seen this radiance before. It was the recognition of the blade in her hands, the recognition of glory given form. Shirou felt what all warriors felt when gazing upon her sword and its magnificence, and for a single moment, that feeling overpowered everything else inside of him.

Then, it was over. Rider and her Pegasus were gone, but the evidence of what had happened remained — the clouds had been parted and pushed aside, and in the space where Excalibur had cleaved, there was an empty hole that lead directly to the moon.

Someone screamed.

Shirou turned around just in time to watch Shinji stumble out from his hiding place and drop his grimoire — it burned on the scorched concrete and its ashes were scattered on the winds.

"My Command Seals!" Shinji cried. "They're burning, they're burning!"

There was a pause. Shinji looked slowly at Shirou, made eye contact, flinched, then spun around and ran as fast as he could down the steps that Shirou had used to reach the roof. Shirou was half tempted to go after him, but he had barely entertained the thought for more than a handful of seconds before there was a thump behind him that told him Saber had collapsed.

"Damn it!"

Her silvery armor had already vanished, evaporated like so much water, by the time he had reached her, and so, too had Excalibur. Her chest heaved as though she had been sprinting for miles and her face was damp with sweat. He didn't bother calling her name. He already knew she had lost consciousness.

"Damn it."

Shirou lifted Saber up into his arms. He ignored how light she felt, how much lighter she was than he remembered her the last time he'd carried her, but couldn't ignore the frustration that welled up in his belly. This had been _exactly_ what he'd been trying to prevent.

_Damn it_.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"I'm done," Rin announced.

Shirou said nothing.

"I put her to bed in your room, but I doubt she'll be waking up any time soon," she continued.

Again, Shirou said nothing.

"Even like this, though," Rin went on explaining, "Saber won't get better."

Once more, Shirou said nothing.

He couldn't. This was his fault. If he'd been faster, if he'd managed to find Shinji before Rider and Saber had reached the roof, if he'd found Shinji before Rider could use her Noble Phantasm in full force — any of those paths would've spared him this situation.

There was only one method that would work to save Saber, at least that he knew of and was willing to use, and the very act of mentioning it could and probably would ruin any trust Rin had in him. Like this, all of his paths to victory had been closed off. The only method that could possibly work would be to get kidnapped by Illya again, but there were so many things that could go wrong in that situation that there was no way he was going to try it.

Damn it.

"So, what happened?" Rin asked. "I know you guys went out looking for Shinji, but you came back looking like that. Did you beat him, or were you forced to retreat?"

"Rider was defeated," Shirou began slowly. "Shinji lost his Command Seals and ran, but Saber used Excalibur against Rider's Pegasus and collapsed right afterwards."

"A Pegasus, huh?" Rin mused. "Well, something that old…You realize what'll happen from here, though, don't you? If you don't do anything, then Saber will disappear."

"I know."

"Saber's Mana is almost gone," she continued. "I can't imagine what kind of weapon Excalibur must be to defeat an Anti-Army Noble Phantasm, but it consumed quite a bit of Mana in the process. In using that Noble Phantasm, Saber has used up most of her Mana, and right now, she's fighting simply to keep herself a part of this place and time."

"I know."

"It's not like being wounded." Rin adopted her famous lecture pose. "Depletion of her Mana is a far more serious problem than that. After all, it's Mana that gives Servants form. Without it, there's no way she can keep herself here and now. Normally, she'd be fine because she'd just draw Prana from you to make up for what she's lost, but since you screwed up her summoning, that isn't happening. Once she runs out of Mana, it's over."

"I know."

"She should have enough to preserve herself, but that's it. When she gets into a fight again, there's no way she can keep up, and if she tries to use her Noble Phantasm a second time —"

"I know!" Shirou burst out.

Damn it, he didn't need her to keep reminding him how badly he'd screwed up.

Rin looked taken aback for a moment, then scowled at him. He turned away.

"Sorry," he murmured.

"You must realize what this means," she said after a moment. "Since you can't provide her with Prana yourself and it would take too long to teach you other methods of doing so —" his heart skipped a beat; that was it, the Transfer Ritual — "you only have one option left."

"Other methods?" he probed hopefully. Please, he begged her mentally. Say it.

"They'll take too long to teach you," Rin repeated stonily. "Shirou, the only option open to you is to use a Command Seal to force her to absorb people's souls."

"That's out of the question," Shirou said firmly.

Rin only frowned. A tense pause followed. Shirou couldn't think of anything to say, and most of his mind was filled with frustration and anger. If he said anything at that moment, it was likely to be something that Rin would take offense to. No, it would definitely be something that Rin took offense to.

She stood and took the choice out of his hands.

"I'll let you decide," she said coolly. "Saber will be a little better come morning, but only marginally so. Your only options are to let her disappear or forcing her to feed on someone's soul. You should make your decision quickly, before another Master swoops down and attacks us again."

Without another word, she turned around and left. The silence that remained behind was deafening, and each tick of the clock was like peals of thunder.

"Damn it…"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The sun had already risen when Shirou woke up in his room. Beside him, Saber continued to sleep restlessly with a wet rag — now completely dry — resting upon her forehead. She was breathing easier and she looked not quite as pale. All the signs of distress that had plagued her the night before were gone.

Shirou knew it was simply cosmetic.

Even when she woke, Saber would be weak and tired. She wouldn't be able to move very well and the normally monstrous strength that befit her nature as a Servant would be absent. She would be reduced to a level below that of even an ordinary human.

If he didn't find a solution, then Saber would disappear.

Shirou was struck by a sudden restless energy that rose up in his belly alongside a new wave of frustration. He stood and strode quickly down the hall, but even splashing his face with cold water did nothing. He looked up into his reflection in the mirror and glared.

"This is your fault," he told himself. "If you had just been a bit faster or a bit better…!"

But it didn't help. It only made him more frustrated, and the restless energy that had forced him up to begin with seemed to feed on his frustration like a parasite. He needed to move. He needed to run or walk or fight — anything that got him moving.

He went to the front door and slipped on his shoes. He would go pick up some groceries, he decided. He would walk instead of using his bicycle. That should help. Hopefully, when he got back, he would either have figured out something to do about Saber's condition or he would have used up all the reckless energy that was coursing through him.

With that sort of goal in mind, he quietly called out, "I'm leaving," stepped out the front door, and closed it behind himself.

There was no way he could force Saber to eat an innocent person's soul, even with a Command Seal. Beyond the fact that Saber would never forgive him if he did, it also went against everything he stood for. How could he claim to fight the War for the sake of the innocents who might be caught in the crossfire if he purposefully killed one, or even more, of those same people he was trying to save?

Letting Saber fade away was no more an option that using his Command Seal was. No, more than his own personal feelings, Shirou had no illusions about what he could do without her by his side. Gilgamesh was one thing, but against enemies like Caster and Lancer and Berserker, too, he wouldn't stand a chance. One Servant, he might be able to beat, but the others wouldn't be easy, either.

The only feasible option, then, the one that didn't turn his stomach, was the Transfer Ritual they'd used last time. The only problem was, Rin wasn't willing to do it. Oh, she'd certainly implied that she could teach it to him, but she'd also said that it would take too long to be feasible. That wouldn't be a problem if she supervised it the way she had before, but that hadn't even seemed to cross her mind.

Well, of course it hadn't. Rin still had Archer and they weren't hemmed in by Berserker. She wasn't nearly desperate enough that helping him complete the ritual was the only option left. Despite being his ally, Rin was still a competitor in the War with prospects of winning. She'd helped him, but she was only going to go so far as long as she had other options.

Damn it.

So, what did he have to do? Did he have to call up Ilyasviel and ask her to come storming into his home? Would that give Rin enough motivation to help him?

He looked up to discover that his feet had carried him to the nearby park. Sprawled out before him was a playground with a slide and a swingset and a few other such things — rods and sheets of steel and iron for children to play on. Merry-go-rounds and things like that. He'd never really enjoyed them as a child, or at least if he had, not that he could remember and not after Kiritsugu had adopted him.

Oddly, he got the feeling that something important was supposed to happen here.

Shirou spied a bench nearby and walked over to it, then sat down heavily. The restless energy had disappeared all of the sudden and he felt incredibly tired.

What could he do? If he didn't think of a solution quickly, Saber was going to disappear. He couldn't let that happen. Above all, he could not let her vanish.

He looked down at the Command Seals etched into the back of his hand. Was there really no other option?

"Oh! I had a feeling you wouldn't die that easily," a voice said suddenly. Shirou blinked and looked up.

Hair the color of freshly fallen snow and eyes the color of freshly spilt blood. Royal purple clothes with pearl-like buttons and a scarf that seemed woven of lavender.

"Ilya," her name rolled off his tongue.

"So, you made it this far," she said with a smile. "Hello, Onii-chan. You had such a serious expression on your face. Is something wrong?"

"Ilya," he repeated. "You're alright, then? You weren't hurt or anything the other night?"

"Nope!" she said brightly. She did a little twirl as if to demonstrate. "Not a scratch! But you don't look so good, Onii-chan." Ilya leaned forward and stared into his eyes as her lips curled upwards darkly. "Is it because Saber's going to disappear soon and you don't know what to do?"

Suddenly, he remembered what it was that was supposed to happen here. He tried to stand up, but it was useless. His arms and legs refused to obey him and his body felt disconnected, like he wasn't a part of it anymore.

"Worrying about those things doesn't do you any good," Ilya went on as though nothing had changed. "That's why you let Rider's Master escape, right? But you shouldn't have. What you're supposed to do with the loser is kill them."

"Ilya, you…!"

"You've probably figured it out," she sing-songed, "but I was at that building last night, too. I might have had to stick to the sidelines, so I had to stay inside, but I saw enough, Onii-chan."

He tried to move again, but his entire body had gone numb. He couldn't even _feel_ his legs, let alone _move_ them.

"Damn…it…"

"Oh, you're bound already?" Victory gleamed in her eyes. "Wow, your resistance to magic is pretty weak, isn't it? Oh well. Just relax, Onii-chan. Ilya will take care of you from now on. Soon enough, you won't have to worry about Saber or this silly Grail War ever again."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**The irony for Shirou is that Saber would've beaten Rider without needing Excalibur if he hadn't been atop the roof.**

**Shirou swears a lot this chapter.**

**And the dreaded ominous cliffhanger. **

**Things to keep in mind: First, Shirou is way ahead of the game. As we followed some of the anime structuring, we're on Day 8 time-wise, which is equivalent, for the most part, to Day Seven of the VN. Event-wise, however, Shirou has just started Day 11 of the VN and gotten kidnapped by Ilya - that's Day 12 of the anime, folks. No matter how you spin it, Shirou is four days ahead of the game. That means that several other very important details have not yet happened or have happened in a completely different way.**

**Second, because Shirou is so far ahead of the game, Archer isn't fully healed. That's right, Rin is going to drag Archer to rescue Shirou before Archer has fully healed from the wound Saber gave him back in Chapter 1. That'll be important, too.**

**Third, Ilya is making her move four days early, too. That means it's been about 5 days since that midnight confrontation, and there's no guarantee that Berserker has healed those three lives Shirou took that first night.**

_**Always alone…**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	7. The Dream Fades Before Dawn - Part One

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter VII: The Dream Fades Before Dawn — Part One  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

_Her body was tired and ached, and her heart was heavy with the pain of the terrible sin she had just committed, but still she continued on. She forced herself through the town hall, carried on only by the promise she had given, the oath she had taken, and the wish that beat within her chest._

_She finally made it to the center of the hall, the place where the Holy Grail would form and grant her wish, the place where Irisviel had been transformed._

_Except —_

"_You're late, Saber."_

_Standing before the stage, before the golden cup of the Grail, was that figure in armor made of gold._

"_How could you keep me waiting while you played with that rabid mutt of yours?"_

"_Archer…"_

"_What an expression," Archer chuckled, "like a starving dog."_

_There was no trace of any injury, no mark that his last battle had been decided by anything more than a single blow. It was as though Archer had defeated his foe without any effort, as though he had not wasted even one drop of energy to defeat a foe that could be considered amongst the greatest of heroes. _

_Archer, despite having come from a fight mere moments ago, was in perfect condition. Saber, wounded and exhausted, was not._

_She didn't care._

"_You…Get out of the way!" she growled. "The Grail…is mine!"_

_She made to attack, lifted her sword and prepared to charge, but she made it no further than a single step before a sword flew through the air and slammed into her leg. She stumbled to her knees and gritted her teeth to keep from groaning._

_Floating in the air behind Archer were dozens of Noble Phantasms, each more majestic than the last. _

"_Saber…" An expression akin to joy and satisfaction smiled across his face. "Even crawling on the ground and delusional, you're still beautiful." _

_The utter calm in his voice, as though he were not standing before an enemy who could attack at any moment, unnerved her._

"_An omnipotent Grail that grants wishes? Why fixate on such a thing when a woman like you is already a rare miracle?" He spread out his arms. "Lay down your sword and become my wife!"_

_Her heart thudded to a stop — not out of nervousness or of joy, but out of surprise and disbelief at the ridiculousness spouting from his mouth._

"_Abandon your foolish ideals and vows!" he went on grandiosely. "From now on, seek only me, and be mine alone. As I, King of all the world, have admitted your worth, I shall give you all the pleasure there is to feel in this world."_

_The surprise gave way to anger and outrage, and it boiled up inside of her like a poison._

"_You're going to steal the Grail away from me…for such nonsense?!"_

_A second Noble Phantasm shot through the air and she just barely deflected it, but the force behind the blow sent her flying backwards._

_Archer's expression had soured. "I was not asking your opinion," he said. "I was informing you of my decision! So, let's hear your response!"_

"_I refuse!" she howled furiously. "I would never —"_

_Another Noble Phantasm struck her in her already injured leg and a sort of amusement crossed Archer face. "You're too embarrassed to accept? It's fine. I'll forgive you no matter how many times you get it wrong. Only after you experience suffering can you feel the joy I'm able to give you."_

_More Noble Phantasms appeared in the air behind him, and for a moment, Saber considered the possibility that the only way for her to win would be to use Excalibur while he wasn't expecting it, but she realized immediately that using Excalibur would also destroy the Grail._

_That was when she saw her Master, the man who had actually made a contract with her, standing in the balcony above the Grail. She saw him, silhouetted like a ghost, a phantom specter, as he lifted his right hand to show the Command Seals that marked it._

_The signs of his Mastership glowed._

_She pulled free the sword that had been embedded in her leg and stood. She could win. She could do it. Such was the power of the Command Seal that even in such a disadvantageous position, she could win if the right order was given._

"_Ho?" Archer crowed. "Then you've finally made your decision?"_

_**By the power of this Command Seal, **his voice echoed in her head, **Emiya Kiritsugu commands you…**_

_She could win. She could take the Grail. She didn't care what order he gave, she would follow it if it meant victory._

_**Use your Noble Phantasm and destroy the Holy Grail.**_

_The surprise halted her for a moment, so much so that she could not stop Invisible Air from releasing and revealing the golden form of her sword._

"_No!"_

_She resisted as best as she possibly could, as her class afforded her enough Magic Resistance to fight the order, but still, her hands rose shakily against her will._

"_Why, Kiritsugu?! You, of all people…!"_

_Archer seemed at last to notice Kiritsugu's presence, and with a snarl, the golden hero turned, his Noble Phantasms with him, to glare at Saber's Master._

"_Curse you!" he growled. "Are you trying to interfere with my wedding ceremony, you mongrel?"_

"_By the power of my third Command Seal," Kiritsugu said stonily, "I order you, Saber." _

"_STOP!"_

_But it was no use. Kiritsugu was unfazed by her desperate plea._

"_Destroy the Grail."_

_The world vanished in gold._

Shirou jerked up and slammed his back against the chair he was bound to. His eyes snapped open, but the world around him was bleary and unfocused, and he took in a sharp breath as though he had never breathed before.

— _StEeL Is mY BOdY aNd FIre iS My BlOOd —_

The world cleared. The haze that had obscured his vision was driven away like shadows before the light of the sun.

No, he realized after a moment, he wasn't in that town hall. He'd had another dream of the Fourth War, when Saber had been summoned by his father. So then, if he wasn't in that town hall…where was he?

The place around him was ornate and extravagant, and it looked more like a castle that you heard about in fairy tales than a mansion like Rin's or Shinji's. The plush carpet, the finely-engraved walls, the polished furniture, the high-canopied bed with golden silk sheets — it was all too good to be something as simple as a mansion, and too high quality to belong to anyone but the best of the best.

Then this…

Yes, the memories were coming back. He'd been here before. This was the Einzbern Castle, and he'd been kidnapped by Ilya.

Again.

Except…

She was early, his mind protested. Sure, he would've met her around the same time either way, but she wasn't supposed to try kidnapping him for another four days or so, right? That was part of the reason why she'd caught him off guard enough to actually do it, he was sure. That park hadn't been important yet, so he hadn't remembered that she was going to kidnap him from it until it was too late. He should've had another four days before Ilya actually tried to kidnap him.

Shouldn't he?

What could possibly have changed? What could possibly have happened that Ilya would kidnap him four days early? Fighting Rider and Shinji early shouldn't have made a difference, nor the fact that they hadn't confronted Assassin up at the Temple. There was nothing he'd done over the past few days that should have made Ilya kidnap him early.

Unless…

Now that he thought about it, he _had_ done something different. The first time, during that first night when she had confronted him and Rin and Saber, he'd thrown himself in front of a blow meant for Saber and he'd been seriously injured by it. This time, he'd used Caliburn, a Noble Phantasm-level weapon, against Heracles during that first night, and he'd taken three of Heracles' lives.

Could it really be that simple? Could something like that really have given Ilya enough reason to kidnap him so much sooner?

It seemed ridiculous.

And yet…what other explanation was there?

Either way, should he really be worried about that right now?

"Get your head in the game, Shirou," he told himself. "You need to get out of here!"

He pulled against the ropes that bound his arms, but they refused to give. He couldn't say exactly what they were made of — they looked like normal ropes — but they were definitely stronger than normal ropes should be.

The doorknob turned and panic shot through Shirou. Immediately, he let his arms go slack, and barely a moment after his muscles had relaxed, Ilya walked through the door.

"Oh!" she said as her eyes landed on him. "You're finally awake! How are you feeling?"

If he hadn't already been on the receiving end of Ilya's conflicting personas, the change from the cold girl who had kidnapped him would have been unnerving.

She blinked and tilted her head curiously.

"That's odd," she mused. "You don't seem very energetic, Onii-chan. Aren't you able to move yet? You should at least be capable of talking."

"I'm fine," he said sourly. "But if you were expecting me to be excited about being captured, you're way off the mark."

She pouted.

"Don't be like that," she said. "I did you a favor, you know. Prisoners are supposed to be kept in the dungeon, but I decided to make an exception for you."

"The fact that it's gilded doesn't make a cage any less a cage," he shot back.

Ilya leaned forward, rested her hands on his thighs, and pressed her face uncomfortably close to his. "I'll kill all the other Masters, but not you. You're special. You're _mine_, Onii-chan. Where I keep you is really up to me, and you don't get a say in it at all. This castle is several hours outside the city protected by a powerful Bounded Field. No one is coming to your rescue, so there won't be anyone to interfere. There's no Saber here to fight for you and no Rin to get in the way."

He hated the fact that she could be right. He hated the little worm of doubt that had slithered into his thoughts and told him that things were far different, that Rin could very well decide to leave him to die. Most of all, he hated the fact that Saber would come for him anyway, and that she'd be killed when she did.

And it would be all his fault.

"You should just give in," she went on. "Just give up and serve me, Shirou, and I'll protect you forever. If you give up and become my servant, you can stay here forever and you won't have to worry about anything ever again."

"Don't be ridiculous," he said immediately. "No matter what you say, I can't give up just because you say so. I didn't come all this far just to…!"

He hadn't gone through all of that pain and suffering, all the planning and plotting and steeling his heart just to surrender in this place at this time. If he gave up, then Kotomine would win and Saber would be killed. If he gave up, then this girl in front of him would die, too. If he gave up, then the world itself could be destroyed by the taint of the Grail made flesh.

Giving up wasn't even an option.

If he gave up, what kind of hero would he be?

Ilya smiled cruelly. "Even if you don't want to admit it, you've already lost. Saber will disappear soon, and even if she doesn't, she'll easily be killed in the condition she's in. So I'll ask you one last time, Shirou: Be mine."

Shirou looked her in the eyes. He looked her square in the eyes fearlessly, even though he knew what those eyes could do.

"No," he told her firmly.

"So you're going to betray me, too."

She backed away immediately. The sweetness and innocence that had rolled off of her in waves disappeared and was replaced with a cool apathy.

"Fine," she said indifferently. "I've let you guys off until now, but not anymore." Her voice filled with murderous intent. "Wait here. It shouldn't take me too long."

She was going after Saber and Rin.

"This is between you and me!" he tried. "It doesn't have anything to do with anyone else!"

"Exactly," she said brightly. "That's why I'm going to kill Rin and Saber. Without them in the way, you'll have no reason to refuse me. And if you still do, then I'll just kill you, too."

She smiled cruelly again. "I don't have any use for a toy that doesn't want to play."

With a childish giggle ill-befitting the gravity of her threat, Ilya turned around and left. The door clicked shut behind her.

"Damn it."

He needed to get out of there. He couldn't count on Rin and Archer, not for this, not with so much having gone differently. If he wanted to escape, it would have to be on his own power with his own strength.

But the ropes were bound snugly — not too tight, but nowhere near loose enough for him to twist free. The only way to get out would be to either hurt himself wiggling free, which could take hours, or snapping the ropes entirely, and for the second, he'd need to be stronger than he was now.

That meant reinforcing his muscles.

"All right, then," he muttered to himself. The switch inside of him flicked on and Prana flooded through his Magic Circuits. "Trace…On."

From there, it took little effort to give himself the required strength. When he pulled against the ropes again, they snapped like so much twine. He may as well have been bound in dental floss. There was a crunch, and he realized with a sort of surprised numbness that he had also snapped the wooden beams that supported the back of the chair.

Guess he didn't know his own strength.

Without anything to hold him down, he stood and rubbed at the marks on his wrists the ropes had made.

"It's a good thing she didn't use something stronger, like steel wire," Shirou mused. "Otherwise, I'd never have gotten free."

Or worse, he would have cut his own hands off trying to break his bonds.

Either way, he should stop standing around. He needed to get moving.

He made for the door and reached out for the knob, but paused when he heard footsteps and indistinct voices coming from the other side. He couldn't make out who it was, not without trying something dangerous and unpracticed, like reinforcing his ears, but he could guess. It was either Ilya and one of her maids or Saber and Rin, but no matter who it actually was, it was better to be safe and prepared than sorry.

He turned the lights off and stepped back to hide just beyond the far side of the door. He pressed a hand close to the patch of cloth on his belt, where Caliburn was hidden, and turned his Circuits on.

The door was thrown open and Shirou was halfway through the motion of drawing Caliburn when he realized that the intruder was blond and wearing a white blouse and blue skirt.

He blinked. "Saber."

She turned to look at him and blinked back. "Shirou."

"You're awake."

"You're alright." Her eyes narrowed. "Shirou, what are you _doing_ here?"

He felt a blush rise up in his cheeks and awkwardly scratched at the back of his head. "Um, well…Ilya kidnapped me."

Saber frowned. "You shouldn't have left the house alone. None of this would have happened —"

"I left to get a breath of fresh air," Shirou interrupted. "I didn't mean to be gone long or anything, but Ilya caught me off guard."

"That's not the point! Shirou, you—"

"You're in much better shape than I expected you to be, Shirou." Rin appeared from behind Saber, arms crossed and looking at him disinterestedly. Archer stepped up beside her. "So, am I to take this as a sign that you didn't really need our help after all?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Rin," Archer said condescendingly. "You should've left him be to begin with. Emiya Shirou is the kind of man to cause trouble for the people around him and survive. We would have been better off leaving him to die — it would've saved us the trouble later."

Shirou couldn't say he was surprised. He'd long gotten used to Archer's caustic remarks, even if some of them got on his nerves. From the beginning, even the first time through, there'd been a sense that the two of them couldn't possibly get along.

Shirou did appreciate that Archer had sacrificed himself, though. While they'd never be best friends, nor on particularly good terms, that kind of selflessness and heroism was something of which Shirou could approve.

"So you guys came after all," he said. He studiously ignored Archer's comment. "I have to admit, I was kind of afraid Ilya was right and you'd just leave me here."

_I was actually kind of hoping for it, too_, he didn't say aloud. Yes, this could be a perfect opportunity to solve his problem with Archer, but not if it was going to risk Saber and Rin in the process.

"They came because I asked for their assistance," Saber told him. "When I awoke to find you missing and Rin didn't know where you had gone, I had to assume that you'd been abducted, and the only Master who showed such a keen interest in you was Ilyasviel."

"We didn't come just because she asked," Rin added. "We're basically partners, so I couldn't very well leave you to die." Her arms fell to her sides. "But we really shouldn't be standing here chatting. Have you forgotten the situation? Ilyasviel could return here at any moment, so we should retreat before she gets back."

A very good point.

"You're right," he acknowledged.

"Of course I am," Rin said with her usual smugness. "Anyway, we'll talk about everything else later. I prepared as best as I could once I knew this was the Einzbern base, but it's much more convenient if we don't have to fight them at all. With Saber in the state she's in and Archer still healing from his wounds, we wouldn't stand a chance if we fought Berserker."

Saber's brow crinkled. "You promised not to talk about that," she said, but her voice lacked the usual heat he associated with her anger.

So Saber hadn't recovered at all. That was stupid. He'd never thought she'd be any better when she woke up, so why should he be surprised that her condition hadn't changed?

Maybe it was the dream — seeing Saber tired but still strong in that final fight with Gilgamesh had probably distracted him from the fact that her energy was dangerously low.

Rin huffed. "Well, I'm breaking it. It's not like we could hide it from him for very long, so there was no point in trying to keep it a secret."

"It doesn't matter anyway, because I already knew," Shirou said. "I'd probably say something here about how you should've kept her from coming in that sort of state…but I know Saber too well to think you could have stopped her anyway."

Saber blinked at him and opened her mouth to say something, but nothing came out and she shut it again.

"Well, she was the only one who knew where you were." Rin shrugged. "Really, even if we could have convinced her to stay, we needed her to find you in the first place."

"And now that we've patched that all up, we should probably think about leaving," Archer interrupted. "We are, after all, in another Master's base. We don't have the time to explain everything."

Rin twitched.

"You're right, Archer," she admitted grudgingly. "Ilyasviel could be back at any moment. We'll have to finish this conversation at another time. Alright, Shirou?"

"Sure," he said. He wanted to get out, too. He'd learned his lesson — a single small change could mean a big, important change if he wasn't careful, so he couldn't rely on his knowledge of what had happened the first time to always be accurate. That meant that if they stood there talking long enough, a relatively minor change, they could all be cornered by Ilya in that tiny hallway, a pretty big change. "But before that…"

He looked over to Saber, who looked as though nothing was wrong. Servants could be pretty amazing like that — so exhausted that they could barely stand, and yet seem as strong as they ever were.

"Saber," he began, "can you move all right on your own?"

She gave him a small smile and pressed her right hand to her chest, fingers splayed over the cotton of her blouse.

"Please have faith in your Servant, Master," she said.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The hallways were just as Shirou remembered them — just as long, just as majestic, and just as winding and snaking. It was a small comfort that Rin, at least, seemed to know the way out, because Shirou couldn't, for the life of him, remember the path they had taken the first time through.

That was probably because he had been distracted by the museum-like walls filled with priceless masterpieces that looked like they belonged to a head of state or a king rather than something as simple as a Magus.

But then, the Einzbern were one of those really old, really important Magus families, weren't they? Like the Tousaka? And those guys at that place in London, the Clock Tower?

"Stop gawking!" Rin's voice called back. "I _will_ leave you behind if you don't keep up, you know!"

Shirou nearly stumbled. How had she known he was distracted by the décor?

"S-Sorry!"

Even with his knowledge of the future, she _still_ managed to make him feel like a complete novice.

"Just keep going!" she shouted.

He said nothing and simply forced himself to focus on the flair of her skirt as she ran — dangerous territory, perhaps, because if he wasn't careful then he could wind up having thoughts that he really shouldn't, but it was better to be distracted by the girl in front of him than by the halls around him.

He tried his best to ignore Saber's labored breathing behind him. He knew, he had learned long ago, that the one thing he could not do was step on her pride, and to ask her if she needed help was to do just that.

So he kept running. He forced himself to see only the flair of Rin's skirt and hear only the beating of their feet on the floor, and he promised himself, if Saber fell, then he wouldn't accept any excuses. He'd just pick her up and carry her.

At length, they reached the entrance hall. Rin and Saber were panting from the exertion and Shirou was not too proud to admit that he was breathing hard, too, but Archer, who winced every now and again, didn't look even slightly winded. Shirou had a moment to think that being a Servant was cheating, then told himself to stop being so childish and stupid.

"Alright, then," Rin said. "This should be it. We leave through here, escape into the forest under the cover of darkness, and find our way to the main road. By the time Ilyasviel comes back and finds out you're not here, we should be long gone."

She started down the stairs. Shirou, Saber, and Archer followed behind her and kept in step as she marched towards the large, double-door entrance. For a moment, Shirou thought they would make it, that they would walk out the entrance without Ilya being any the wiser.

For a moment, it seemed like they would.

"Oh, you're leaving already? That's too bad. I thought you would stay."

And then a horrible voice echoed across the entrance hall.

Shirou turned with the others, even though he already knew what he would find. He turned, even though he already knew that Ilya was standing at the top of the stairs with Berserker, as still as a statue, beside her. He turned and saw her terrible, terrible smile.

So then…it really was hopeless from the very beginning.

"Ilya…sviel," Rin whispered behind him.

"Good evening," Ilya said with a dark little smile. "Now I don't have to go looking for you, Rin. Thank you." She cocked her head to the side and placed her hands on her hips. "What's the matter? I'm giving you plenty of time to come up with some last words. It's so much more fun if I get to hear you say something before you die."

Rin took a step forward.

"Alright, fine," she said. Shirou could immediately hear the false bravado in her voice. "Then let me ask you something. How was it that I couldn't sense your return to the castle? Was it because…you never actually left?"

"Yup," Ilya said with sadistic cheer. "That's right! I never really went anywhere. I was just having fun watching you guys run around making fools of yourselves!"

"Then…the person you sent out your front door was nothing more than a fake!"

"Yup." Ilya giggled. "After all, I'm the master of this house. I have to be here to attend to my guests when they show up on my doorstep."

A black blur launched itself over the staircase and landed at the bottom — Heracles growled and stood slowly. Power radiated off of him in waves, and through the knowledge of how to beat the monster in front of him, through the memories of defeating the black monster, Shirou felt an inkling of the sense of impending doom that had rooted him to the spot the last time.

"Are you done, or was there something else?"

Shirou's hand drifted towards the swath of cloth that hid Caliburn.

"Don't bother," Archer mumbled to him scornfully. "Someone like you couldn't even begin to hope to defeat a monster like that."

Shirou bit off a retort and let his hand drop. He hadn't yet decided how to solve this problem, but he would definitely prefer if they could leave without anyone getting hurt.

"Guess not. Well, we should probably get started then," Ilya smiled cruelly. She lifted her right hand in a mock vow. "And I promise you…I won't let anyone leave here alive."

Berserker howled, but didn't charge, and it seemed that Ilya was waiting for one of them to make a move before she ordered her Servant into action. Shirou thought it was a rather useless gesture — the only way any of them was leaving would be to have someone stay behind and stall Berserker, and the only way that worked was if the person staying behind was a Servant.

Shirou already knew how that would go.

"Archer, listen," Rin muttered lowly. It wouldn't carry across the hall, but everyone in their little group could hear her. "I know you're injured, but it doesn't have to be for long. Stall him while we escape."

"That's absurd!" Saber said lowly. "Have you lost your mind, Rin? Archer wouldn't be a match for Berserker at full strength, let alone in his injured state!"

Shirou's fists clenched. "If he stays behind, you know he won't be coming back, don't you, Tousaka?"

It had to be said. Maybe Rin really did hold out hopes that they could all escape if Archer stayed behind to stall Berserker for a little while before following, but Shirou knew from experience. If they left him behind, then Archer wouldn't be coming back.

Shirou was a bit ashamed to admit that it would solve some of his problems, but the cold hard truth of it was that if Archer stayed behind, then Shirou didn't have to worry about him anymore and Rin would have no option but to teach him the ritual needed to help Saber. He hated that the only option was to sacrifice someone, but it would work out so much neater if he did.

There was a moment of pause, and Shirou could imagine Rin chewing uncertainly on her lower lip, but didn't dare to take his eyes off Berserker.

"You keep him busy for a little bit," Rin said finally. "Nothing fancy. Just dance with him for a little while."

An amused huff came from Archer.

"That's the wisest course of action," he said solemnly. "If you can escape first, then it shouldn't be difficult for me to follow behind you. After all, Independent Action is the Archer Class's specialty."

Archer stepped forward to stand across from Berserker. Up at the top of the stairs, Ilya giggled.

"Wow," she smiled, "how cute of you, Rin! You really think that some no-name Servant like yours stands even the smallest chance against my Heracles?"

Rin said nothing.

"By the way, Rin, let me clarify something here," Archer began in his cool voice. "Buying time is fine and everything, and it's certainly within my power to do that, but it's perfectly alright if I just kill that thing instead, right?"

He looked over his shoulder with a cocky smirk, and Shirou remembered that same look from the first time — bravado, nothing more. Archer was perfectly aware that he had just been ordered to die.

"Archer…"

For a moment, it seemed like Rin didn't know what to say.

"It's fine," she confirmed with her usual smugness. "Archer, if you want to kill that thing, then feel free, go right ahead."

"I see. Then I'll try not to disappoint you."

Ilya scowled. "You must think you're funny or something! Fine! Berserker, I'm getting tired of looking at his ugly face! Tear him to pieces!"

Berserker threw back his head and howled. Shirou thought for one wild moment of sticking behind to help Archer kill Berserker and reached for Caliburn, but Rin's hand grabbed his and pulled him away.

"Now's our chance!" she said. "Let's go!"

There wasn't any time to deny her.

"Go, Emiya Shirou," Archer called over his shoulder, as though he knew Shirou's thoughts. "Now is not the day for you to die."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The castle, which was just as impressive on the outside as it was on the inside, vanished behind them once they made it into the forest. Shirou was a little thankful that winter never got especially cold in Fuyuki — the leaves would help to hide them when Ilya and Berserker came charging after them, which would make it easier for Shirou to get a surprise blow in and finish Berserker off without endangering either of the two girls running beside him.

"This way!" Rin shouted. "The main road is a three hour run from here, and once we make it that far, we're essentially home free!"

She ran on ahead, but Shirou didn't follow as quickly. Saber was out of breath just a few short steps behind him, and he knew that she wouldn't be able to keep up running for three hours — her energy was dangerously low as it was, so running for that long was completely out of the question.

But he couldn't tell Rin that. Rin had to come to that conclusion on her own, or else she wouldn't accept it.

The moment Saber fell, he was going to pick her up and carry her.

Berserker howled in the distance, but Shirou couldn't see Rin wincing, so he figured that Archer must not be in any real danger just yet.

He could imagine it, though. He didn't know much about Archer's fighting style, but he had seen enough for his mind to imagine Archer and Berserker trading attacks. He could hear the clang of their swords as they exchanged blows, see the flash of their blades — the twin swords, Kanshou and Bakuya, and Berserker's roughly-chiseled slab of marble.

Behind him, a very real explosion of light tore through the roof of the mansion and bathed the forest in a soft white glow.

"Just keep going!" Rin called out. Shirou could hear her voice wobble, but didn't comment — he didn't think he would've had the strength necessary to order Saber behind if their positions were reversed.

They hurried on again. The forest had become an endless blob of gray-green-brown that seemed to extend on forever, and Shirou wondered how long they had been running for, how long they would have to keep running.

He wondered, too, at what sort of Noble Phantasm Archer had. Shirou had never seen it himself, and the only time it might have been unleashed properly was the very same situation that was occurring now — the fight against Heracles. He found he couldn't imagine what sort of weapon Archer would wield — Archer, who used swords as though he was a Saber.

Was it something like Excalibur? Was it more like Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon? Or was it some sort of bow-and-arrow combination?

Ahead of him, Rin stumbled and gripped at her right hand, the hand with her Command Seals. Shirou knew what it meant — Archer was dying.

"Rin," Saber began softly. "Archer, is he…?"

"Not yet," Rin said as she continued on. Something wet hit Shirou in the cheek. "He's still putting up a fight."

She stumbled to a stop, and Shirou and Saber stopped just behind her. She was staring at her Command Seal and biting her lip, and though he couldn't see her face, her whole posture screamed of indecision.

"Maybe I should…" she whispered.

The red of her Command Seal glowed brighter. She shook her head.

"Let's go," she declared firmly. She started running again. Shirou and Saber started after her and they were beginning to pick up their original pace. If they continued on like that, Shirou thought that they might just make it out of the forest without needing to stop, and he wasn't sure how he felt about that.

Behind him, Saber tripped and fell.

Shirou skidded to a halt and turned around. On the ground, Saber panted, and her legs shook visibly as she tried to stand back up. Shirou didn't give her the chance. He knelt down beside her and slung one arm under her knees and the other over her shoulders and picked her up as though she were weightless.

Her face flushed red.

"Shirou!" she cried. "Put me down this instant! I cannot accept something like this, not even from my Master!"

"I'm not going to let you go on like that," Shirou told her. He made sure that his tone left no room for argument. He'd already promised himself that he wouldn't accept any excuse she offered. "If you try to run in the kind of condition you're in, then you'll only slow us down. It's better if I carry you so we can keep up with Rin."

He started forward again and Saber didn't say anything. He thought that she was probably a bit ashamed and that his argument had gotten through to her. Besides, they really did need to catch up with Rin. It didn't do anyone any good if they fell behind at a time like this.

When they caught up to her again, Rin was standing still and staring down at her hand again. Her Command Seals blazed red against the pale skin of her hand, and her other hand was clenching and unclenching. The indecision that he had seen in her earlier had returned a hundredfold, and her entire body thrummed with it.

"I'm going to do it," she was whispering to herself. "It's been long enough, right? I can do it."

"Tousaka?" he asked hesitantly. "Something wrong?"

Her shoulders squared. She didn't seem to have heard him, but the indecision that had been plaguing her was gone. She lifted her hand.

"By the power of this third Command Seal —"

An inkling of what she planned entered Shirou's mind.

"What're you doing, Tousaka?!"

"— Archer, come forth!"

There was a flash of light that left Shirou blind for a moment, and when it cleared, Archer stood in front of Rin, beaten, battered, and broken, with an expression on his face that Shirou imagined was on his own, too. Against all sense and reason, Rin had just saved Archer.

Shirou couldn't believe it. After all of it, after everything that had just happened, Rin used her last Command Seal to save Archer?

It was mind boggling. Rin was more an expert at the whole Master-Servant thing than Shirou could ever hope to be, so surely she knew, just as he did, that there wasn't any point in saving Archer without a Master to supply him Prana and heal his wounds. What could she hope to do? Without a set of Command Seals, her connection to Archer was lost, so even if she saved him, all she had done was prolong Archer's inevitable death.

It would've been much swifter and more merciful to let him die in battle against Berserker. That way, he wouldn't have to waste away, slowly withering as his Mana dwindled down to nothing. It was worse than what Saber was going through — Saber, at least, had a Master, and as long as she had a Master, there were methods of restoring her lost Mana. Archer didn't.

A long moment later, Archer seemed to regain himself.

"Are you insane?!" he howled at Rin. "You actually summoned me back with your last Command Seal — have you lost all sense?! Do you realize what you've done?!"

"I realize that I just saved you!" Rin shouted back. "Maybe it wasn't my best idea ever and maybe I didn't plan it out all that well, but I just saved you! The least you could do is thank me!"

"Thank you?!" Archer demanded incredulously. "In all likelihood, you just blew everything! As long as I was fighting Berserker, then even if I died, I could have stalled him long enough for you to escape the forest, but without me there, there isn't anything to stop Ilyasviel and her monster from chasing after us as we speak!"

"Rin," Saber tried breathlessly. Shirou blinked and looked down, and when he realized why Saber sounded like she was on her deathbed, he couldn't believe he'd been distracted enough not to notice that Saber's condition had deteriorated so quickly. How had he not noticed the feverish sweat on her forehead and the shallow rise and fall of her chest? How couldn't he have noticed how she trembled and shook like a leaf?

Saber using Excalibur against Rider, Saber collapsing and low on Mana, himself being kidnapped by Ilya, Archer being injured going into his fight with Berserker, Rin summoning Archer from that very same fight and saving his life, Saber about to fade away…

Nothing was going the way he'd wanted it, Shirou lamented. Why was everything falling apart around him?

Rin glanced at them and grimaced, then faced Archer again.

"Then we had better hide and prepare our counterattack, hadn't we?" she said more calmly than Shirou thought her able. She snapped her arm out and pointed into the foliage, and Shirou followed the direction of her finger to find the ruins they had used the last time. It was too impossible to be coincidence. Rin must have been leading them towards those ruins the entire time, just in case. She was a forward thinker like that.

"You saw this on our way in, right?" Rin asked rhetorically. "We should be able to escape notice if we stay the night there. We can get Saber back into shape for tomorrow morning, and then we'll face Ilyasviel and Berserker."

Archer looked at her and gave a long sigh.

"You're impossible," he told her. "You know that, right?"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"It's not much, but it could be much worse."

Rin kicked at a piece of the debris that littered the floor of the ruined building. As before, the ground floor was completely covered in moss, vines, and other wild plant life, so the second floor was the only feasible place to stay, and of the available rooms, the one Rin had picked out was the best.

Exactly as last time.

"If you had just gone on ahead instead of worrying about me, then you could have already made it back to town by now," Archer put in.

Well, not _exactly_ the same as last time.

"Well, at least it's clean," Rin said pragmatically. "I suppose someone must've been staying here recently, and that's why this place is in such good condition. Either way, if Ilyasviel is chasing after us right now, then it'll be some time before she gets here, and if we're lucky, then we might be able to hold out here until morning."

"And if you had simply left me behind, you could be in the comfort and safety of your own home," Archer said.

Rin's eyebrow twitched.

"Well, what's done is done, either way," she said. She busied herself with fixing the dusty bed, but her hands shook — a combination, Shirou figured, of her nerves about Archer's fight and the desire to hit Archer himself for his remarks. "More importantly, we have to solve the problem of our weakness — Shirou, set Saber down here."

She patted the bed with her right hand and moved out of the way.

"Right."

Shirou stepped carefully over the debris and gently set Saber down on the bed, trying to ignore the heat that radiated from her feverish body and the puffs of her shallow breathing in his ear.

"Shirou…" she whispered.

"All right, then," Rin said firmly. She seemed like she was preparing herself for something. "Archer, I'd like to ask you to wait in the other room —"

"No need," Archer interrupted as he moved towards the door. Though he didn't limp, he left droplets of blood behind with every step. He was still wounded. "I have a pretty good idea of what comes next. I'll be back when you're finished."

"Good," Rin said. She turned to look at Shirou. "Shirou, do you know how to make a pass?"

Shirou blinked.

"Somewhat," he said. "I mean, it was in those books you gave me, but I didn't get far enough to cover all of it. Just that, um, it involves —" he blushed — "a Tantric ritual…"

In Shirou's head, the dots connected together and all the pieces of the puzzle slipped into place.

"Wait, you don't mean —"

"That's _exactly_ what I mean," Rin said with a straight face. There was only the faintest hint of red in her cheeks. "Shirou, we're going to use a Tantric ritual to exchange Prana between you and Saber. It won't fix that fractured bond of yours, but it'll give her something to work with so that she's not running on empty tomorrow morning."

Shirou's brain threatened to dribble out of his ears.

"_But, but, but!_" a little voice in the back of his head protested. _"Last time, we just transplanted a few Magic Circuits!"_

In a distant sort of way, Shirou figured that if he had said that aloud, Rin would tell him how horrible a Magus he was that he considered a tantric ritual more invasive than having some of his Magic Circuits ripped away.

"B-but," he started to protest.

"Shirou," Rin declared bluntly, "the only way to save Saber is to sleep with her."

It sounded like the punchline to a bad joke.

"That's, ah, I mean," he tried. "Th-there must be some other way, right? A-and besides, Saber would never agree to —"

"Shirou," Saber's voice stopped him cold. He turned to her, but the moment he met her eyes, she looked away and her face flushed an even brighter red. "I-I don't mind."

"Urk."

Shirou's brain froze. For a single moment, everything he was stilled to a halt as his mind processed the information that his ears had just been given.

Rin was suggesting a tantric ritual to supply Saber with the Prana she needed, a ritual of the sort that he was sure someone like Saber would never agree to, and Saber had just told him that she was perfectly okay with doing it.

Which meant…Which meant…

The decision was taken out of his hands when Rin marched up to him, grabbed him by the back of his head, and pressed her lips against his. Any thoughts that might have remained in his brain were reduced to mush, and a moment later — too soon, not soon enough — she pulled away.

"We don't have time for your indecision," she said breathlessly. She reached down and grasped his hand. "At this very moment, Ilyasviel could be hunting for us relentlessly. We need to do this now."

The rest of it happened in a blur — he could vaguely remember Rin stripping down, stripping Saber down, and then stripping him down, and the strangled erotic moments that followed. What stood out clearest was Saber — her body pressed against his, he skin flush against him, her body coiled tightly beneath him in the throes of a passion that seemed wholly inappropriate with the situation that awaited them when they returned to the real world.

He was ashamed, very slightly ashamed, that he had forgotten entirely about Berserker.

After it was all over and the moment of lightheadedness passed, Shirou opened his eyes to find that Saber's arms were wrapped tight around his chest. His left arm was curled upwards and his hand was cupping her right shoulder gently. His right arm was folded beneath him and his hand was next to his head. He was lying atop her, with her chest flattened against his and their legs intertwined.

At some point, Rin had dressed herself and gone over to nestle against the wall to sleep, and Saber was lying next to him in the bed, naked as the day she was born, with a small contented smile on her face.

"Shirou…" she whispered his name breathily.

It was too much.

He'd held himself back from the beginning, waiting for her, waiting to love the woman of his dreams until he had earned her love again, and lying there, beside her, having just had sex with her…He couldn't stop himself.

Before he knew it, he had positioned himself over top of her again, and she was gripping his arms and smiling like she had just been given the world. He kissed her then and there, enjoyed the gentle feel of her kissing back, and rolled his hips when everything aligned.

For the second time that night, he made love to her, properly this time. And when it was all said and done, when Saber clenched her hands on his biceps and softly cried his name as he joined her in rapture, Shirou fell back to the bed beside her and fell asleep with a smile on his face.

He wasn't sure whether or not he had dreamed it, but her voice whispered "I love you" in his ear.

He woke up again much later, and his heart was beating wildly against his ribs as though he had just had a nightmare.

The tall form of Archer hovered menacingly over him, staring down with cold, steel gray eyes. For an instant, Shirou groped wildly for his sword, for Caliburn, but even if the belt containing the sword had been present, he could not have retrieved it for the weight on his right arm.

Lying contentedly next to him, with her full weight atop his arm and her head nestled into his shoulder, was Saber.

He was defenseless.

"I should kill you, right here and now," Archer said frostily. "And yet…"

He lifted his arm, the one that Berserker must have broken, and it shook with effort. "And yet, something stops me. A curiosity, perhaps. You're stronger than you're supposed to be. The things you've done should be far beyond the person known as Emiya Shirou. The abilities you've shown, the power you've wielded…You must have entered a contract."

The arm fell.

"I'll let you live for now," Archer said with a grave importance. "I won't kill you just yet, not until I know what entity you contracted to gain the powers you have currently. I'll wait and see if it's Alaya, and if it's not, then I'll be done with it, and if it is, then I'll do whatever I must to sever that contract before I put you down."

He turned around and started walking way. "You're living on borrowed time, Emiya Shirou," he declared as he vanished. "And soon enough, I'll come to collect."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Those of you screaming at me about deviating from canon, this one's aimed at you.**

**Part Two comes next.**

**There's an important poll in my profile about what the name of Shirou's sword will be. For reference, please look at the Revenant Ultimate Guide in the FSN forum. The poll is posted on there, too.**

_**Striving for Utopia…**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	8. The Dream Fades Before Dawn - Part Two

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter VIII: The Dream Fades Before Dawn — Part Two  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"Shirou," a familiar voice called his name softly.

His eyes fluttered, but stubbornly refused to stay open. He was comfortable and warm and he didn't want to get up.

"Shirou," the voice whispered again.

But he needed to, a voice in the back of his head told him. He needed to get up. He needed to —

He opened his eyes.

Saber's verdant green eyes greeted him, and the gentle smile on her face said it before her mouth even curved around the words, "Good morning, Shirou."

Shirou blinked the sleep from his eyes. "Good morning, Saber."

Slowly, feeling returned to his limbs, and he realized that they had switched positions sometime in the middle of the night — she was laying on his right and his arm was thrown over her shoulders. Five dainty fingers, soft but calloused, pressed gently on his right hip as one, her thumb, ran delicately over his hipbone.

That was when Shirou remembered that they were on the run from Berserker and Ilya, that Rin was over in the corner, that Archer — who had disappeared sometime in the middle of the night — had been saved, and that the ritual Rin had had them perform had been a tantric ritual designed to exchange Prana.

That was also when Shirou remembered that he and Saber were naked.

His first reaction was to panic about his modesty, but after it had bounced around in his head for a moment, he realized just how ridiculous a thought it was — Saber had seen all of him last night, every part of him that was concealed, including the ugly scar over his heart where Lancer had tried to kill him. There was no point in hiding himself behind his hands because there was no part of his body that still remained a mystery to her.

But they still had to worry about Berserker.

He pulled away from her and rolled himself out of bed, and immediately, he missed the warmth that had radiated off of her like fireflies under the moon. He wished he could go back to that warmth and bask in it forever, but the world demanded that he not, that there were still things he had to do.

"We should probably get dressed," he said as he reached for his clothing.

"Yes," Saber said. Shirou felt the bed move as she sat up and her slim, creamy legs fell off the bed next to his. He remembered what they had felt like the night before, wrapped around his hips and pulling him closer, deeper, and repressed the surge of desire to feel them again. "That would be a good idea."

They dressed silently with their backs to one another — it really wasn't necessary, but he figured that it was a sign of their respect for each other that they each gave the other privacy to dress.

"You're looking much better than you did last night," he commented lightly as he pulled his jeans on.

She really did look better. Her skin had returned to a healthier color and she didn't look as though she were about to fade into nothing, as he had feared she would just hours before.

"Yes," she said softly with something of a fondness in her voice. "Thanks to the large amount of Prana you provided me with last night, I am in much better condition than before."

Shirou paused with the button of his pants. "Large amount of Prana?"

The rustling of Saber putting her clothing back on stopped as well. "You didn't know? The amount of Prana you provided me with last night was well in excess of what a normal Magus possesses."

Shirou flipped on his Circuits for a second — he had no idea how to check for exactly how much Od he possessed, but that wasn't what he was looking for in the first place.

"Well, no," he said after a moment. "I mean, I never really knew how much Od I had, but…It just…It feels like…Like I'm a full capacity."

Which shouldn't be possible. If he had provided Saber with as much Prana as she was suggesting, then he should be drained almost dry — assuming that he had that much Prana in the first place. And he was pretty sure he didn't.

"I see," Saber said neutrally. "Shirou…I cannot claim to be an expert, and Rin is certainly far more knowledgeable of the subject than I, but…that is a strange and worrying fact."

Strange, perhaps, and maybe a bit worrying, but Shirou also figured that it was something of a blessing. The more Prana he had access to, the more he could do with it — that was a basic rule of just about everything. The more resources you had, the more resources you could use.

When she said nothing else, Shirou decided to put it out of his mind for the moment, went back to getting dressed, and pulled his socks and shoes on. Once he'd done that, he stood up and pulled his shirt over his head — and there, when he opened his eyes again, was Rin, standing in front of him with her arms crossed.

Shirou blinked.

"Good morning, Tousaka," he greeted on reflex.

"You two seem to be in awfully good spirits," she said with a bit of a smirk. "That's good. We have a battle to plan, so let's get to it. Are you ready?"

Saber stepped up to stand beside Shirou. "We're listening, Rin."

"Good," Rin said. "As far as strategies go, this one is pretty simple. We can't match Berserker head on, so we'll have to ambush him and hit him with a surprise attack. The only way for us to win is to end it quickly so that he doesn't have a chance to counterattack. That'll be much harder to do with that resurrection magic he has, but even a monster like Heracles has to have a limit on how many times he can come back to life. Once we ambush him, all we have to do is keep killing him until he runs out."

"That is the most sensible course," Saber agreed. "Even with the amount of Prana Shirou gave me last night, I'm still far from peak condition. Defeating Berserker will require that we fight him indirectly."

Except that they had tried that last time and it hadn't really worked. Certainly, everything had fit together in the end, but the original plan had backfired spectacularly.

"I don't think it'll work," he said. "Berserker isn't the type of Servant you can just ambush, and even if we could, how're we supposed to kill him several times before he can fight back? I just don't think it's possible."

"And you'd be right," Rin told him with a smug little smile. "Ordinarily, we wouldn't be able to catch Berserker and Ilyasviel off guard. Even if we escaped Berserker's notice, Ilyasviel would be able to find us by virtue of our connection to our Servants — I'm sure you've probably noticed it, too, Shirou, the pain in your Command Seals when you're in the presence of another Master? That makes hiding practically impossible."

Actually, Shirou _hadn't_ really noticed. Maybe he'd just been too distracted by other things to pay it any attention.

"Hold on, Rin," Saber interrupted. "Should that not apply to you as well? After all, your contract with Archer is still intact. Ilyasviel should be able to sense you just as easily as she would us."

Rin grimaced and looked away. "Actually," she said quietly, "my connection to Archer broke sometime last night. I think…his core was probably damaged in his fight with Berserker. If his spiritual core was damaged, then he would have lasted maybe a few hours after I saved him, but he would have inevitably faded away."

"So just because you no longer have Archer, you're going to try being the ambush?" Shirou asked a little more harshly than necessary.

Rin arched an eyebrow at him. "There are hardly any other options. The only thing that might work is you pulling out that sword of yours and doing the same thing as the other night, but you'll lose consciousness again the moment you use it, in which case you'll be nothing but dead weight. No, our best option is the ambush. Saber will create an opening for me and I'll attack."

She tossed her hair back with one hand. "But it really depends on Saber," she said. "Exactly how much have you recovered since last night?"

"I will be perfectly able to fight normally," Saber said from beside him. "Even with the amount of energy Shirou gave me, however, I should refrain from using my Noble Phantasm. Though I've recovered enough to unleash its full power, doing so would almost certainly render me incapable of sustaining my body."

"That's better than I expected," Rin murmured with a thoughtful look on her face. She shook herself from her thoughts. "Good. That's really good. Way more than I'd hoped for, actually. Then I'll have you and Shirou fight Berserker. All you need to do is keep him distracted so I can take advantage of the first opening I see. Ilyasviel is after you, so she'll probably assume I've run away if I'm not with you when the fighting starts."

"But there is still a problem," Saber interjected. "Shirou is extraordinarily skilled for a human, to be sure, and he has a weapon on the level of a Noble Phantasm, yes, but he's no match for Berserker."

Rin shook her head. "I'm not saying he should fight Berserker hand-to-hand, and I'd like to keep that sword of his as an absolute last resort, so all he has to do is provide you support. To be honest, I'd prefer to have Archer here for some long range —"

Shirou's heart skipped a beat — no, after everything, he wouldn't let Archer affect them like that. That incompatibility…for all the similarity in their skillsets, he and Archer were two completely different people. But it wasn't Archer's ideals that they needed then and there. It was his skills.

"It's fine," he said suddenly. Rin blinked and looked at him.

Rin wanted Archer for mid-to-long range fire support. That was fine — they didn't need Archer for that.

Shirou held out his hand and closed his eyes. In his head, the hammer of a gun cocked back and fired.

Last time, he hadn't been able to do it. Last time, he'd taken a few twigs and turned them into an ordinary bow and arrows. This time…This time, he would definitely do it. This time, it would be the real thing instead of a cheap knockoff.

"Trace…On."

Judge the concept of creation.

Visualize the basic structure.

Duplicate the component materials.

Match the original craftsmanship.

Sympathize with the experience of its growth.

Reproduce the accumulated age.

Excel every manufacturing process.

In his hand, he felt the weight of a bow.

"Trace…Off."

His Circuits cut off and Shirou opened his eyes. In his hand, there was Archer's sleek black bow. He reached up and pulled back the bowstring — the tension was too much for an ordinary human being. If Shirou weren't Shirou, he had no doubt that he wouldn't have been able to pull the string back even halfway.

"Shirou, you…"

"That's Archer's…!"

"This should be fine," Shirou said simply. He pretended he hadn't noticed their surprise. "I'll have to come up with some arrows, too, but…this should be good enough for a bow."

"…I see," Rin said after a moment. "Well, I suppose it's good that you have some way of attacking, so let's get back on topic. Before the fight starts, I'll get up into a tree and watch from above. When Saber makes an opening, I'll jump down and hit him with my reserve stash of jewels."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a handful of gems. "I've been saving these up for several years, now, so just one should equal an A-Rank attack. I'd prefer not to use all of these — I had ten, but I used one on you, Saber — but the risk is great enough that I'll use all of them if I absolutely have to."

"I see," Saber said. "Yes, that should work. Berserker's Magic Resistance is nowhere near mine, so an attack of that level should be effective against him."

"Right," Rin nodded. "So, that's the plan. If neither of you have anything you want to say, we should get out of here and find a spot out in the open to engage Berserker."

No, there wasn't anything he needed to ask. The plan was clear, even if he knew it wouldn't work out the way they wanted, and he knew perfectly well what he'd have to do to make everything work.

The only matter that still needed to be covered was one that didn't concern Rin.

"You go on ahead," Shirou told her. "We'll catch up with you in a minute. There's something I want to talk to Saber about."

Rin shrugged and turned to leave. "Don't take too long," she called over her shoulder as she walked away. The door closed shut behind her.

Shirou waited a long moment, and when he was sure that Rin had gone, he turned to Saber seriously.

"There's something I want you to promise me," he said to her gravely. "Saber, no matter what happens out there —"

"I won't use my Noble Phantasm," Saber interrupted. Shirou blinked, and his surprise must have shown on his face, because she smiled her small little smile. "My Master is a man of great compassion who always puts others above himself. Shirou, I still believe that such a selfless view is wrong, no matter that it is also admirable, but so long as it is the path you've chosen in life, I shall respect it. Therefore, because my Master cares so deeply for my welfare, I promise not to use my Noble Phantasm against Berserker."

"…Thank you, Saber." There wasn't much else he could say to that.

Saber nodded regally, then the smile dropped and her face became serious and solemn — her focus had shifted to the path ahead, and he could only chastise himself for not being as focused as her.

It was time for them to face Berserker.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They reached a clearing in the forest. Shirou could not hope to have said whether it was the same clearing they had stopped at the first time around, but it had the same open view that allowed for direct confrontation — hiding behind cover during a battle would be impossible, and it was only the miraculous collection of leaves on the trees that would allow Rin to conceal herself amongst the branches.

"Tsk," Rin grimaced. "This place meets several conditions, but I don't like how open it is. There aren't any escape routes for you and Saber."

She glanced around thoughtfully. "We should have some time, still. Let's go look for another place."

Rin turned around and made to go back into the forest, but Saber didn't move. Neither did Shirou. Even if they could find another place in time, the one they were in worked best — a clear line of sight so that he could easily aim with his bow and make a straight shot for Berserker when the time came to use Caliburn.

Yes, it would be best to stick with the clearing rather than prioritize escape routes that they would never use.

"Saber?" Rin ventured from behind him. "What are you doing? We need to —"

"I found you!" Ilya's voice singsonged through the forest.

"Crap, she found Shirou already?" Rin asked in a tight voice. "This is bad. This place is way too open — and why are you two so calm?! I'm telling you that we need to get someplace else!"

She reached for his hand, but Shirou shook her off.

"It's fine," he said as confidently as he could. "There's no time to try and find some other place to fight. This is as good as any."

"Idiot, that's what I've been trying to tell you!" she hissed back. "There's far too much space here — if you fight here, you'll be in Berserker's range no matter where you are! It's suicide!"

"Then I guess it's a good thing I don't intend to die," Shirou said. It sounded like something really cool to say, but even then, he was nervous. No, he didn't show it, but he worried about all the ways that the fight could go wrong.

"Damn it," Rin cursed impotently. She glanced off into the forest — and Shirou suddenly felt it, too, Berserker's oppressive presence, filled with malice and fury — then vaulted up into the foliage and vanished.

Suddenly, Shirou was standing alone with Saber.

"Are you ready, Saber?" he asked her quietly.

"I am," she replied calmly.

They fell into silence. There was nothing more to say that had not already been said. All that waited was Berserker. The only thing left to do was to defeat that maddened beast. All of their other concerns could wait.

Then, from out of the mist, a large black form appeared.

"I'm surprised," Ilya said as she came up beside her monstrous Servant. "I thought you'd keep running until the very last second. Or maybe it's that you've given up already, huh, Onii-chan?"

Her vivid red eyes turned towards Saber and she tilted her head to the side a little.

"I see," she hummed. "So that's it. Saber's recovered and you actually think you can win, so you stopped running. It's really rather cute of you to think that you could actually beat me and Berserker. Even like that, you're still going to die."

She leaned forward a little and made a show of looking around.

"But hang on," she said. "Where's Rin?"

"She left," Shirou told her evenly. "Separated from us a while ago. She's probably made it out of the forest by now."

"You think so?" Ilya tittered girlishly. "But this entire forest is contained within the Einzberns' Bounded Field. I can tell who enters and who leaves, and no one has left this forest since last night. Rin is still here, so I can take my time and look for her later."

She smiled cruelly. "Rin is gonna die, no matter what. But if _you_ were to beg me, Shirou, I'd be perfectly willing to spare your life."

"Not a chance," Shirou said coldly. He was steel, he told himself. The only way to defeat a monster like Berserker was to abandon all unnecessary things — fear, affection, compassion — emotion itself. He had to become a sword, a piece of cold and unfeeling steel whose only purpose was to defeat the monster in front of him. "I'm in this thing for the long haul. If that means beating Berserker, then that's what I'm going to do."

It was as Archer had told him. In order to defeat an enemy stronger than himself, he had to imagine himself as something that could defeat his enemy — or, well, something along those lines. The first step to defeating Berserker was believing that he could.

"I see."

Ilya closed her eyes a moment, and when she opened them, glowing red markings appeared all over her body — her Command Seals. They were just as impressive as they had been the first time he'd seen them.

"Ilyasviel's Command Seals," Saber murmured.

"No matter how you look at it," Shirou mumbled back, "that's something that seems impossible."

"I'm really going to kill you, Shirou," Ilya said cheerfully. "So no more fun and games. Go mad, Heracles."

The monstrous beast roared, and Shirou felt the ground beneath his feet quake. The already impossibly strong Heracles became even stronger — and even so, Shirou felt only the memory of fear. This creature before him was powerful, more powerful than any Servant he had seen, save Gilgamesh, but Shirou knew he could beat it.

If it bleeds, it can be killed. If you've killed it once already, you can kill it again.

"Go, Berserker! Kill everything in your way!"

It was for that reason that Shirou wasn't afraid as Saber leapt forward to meet Berserker. It was for that reason that Shirou wasn't afraid as they clashed like two speeding cars, as each blow rang out and Saber was forced to rely solely on defense against Heracles' earth-shaking swings. Because he knew how to win, Shirou wasn't afraid of losing.

But doing nothing would mean losing, even if he beat Berserker, because Saber would be killed first. He could barely make out the figures dancing around the clearing — Berserker's lumbering but surprisingly nimble footsteps and Saber's graceful waltz of steel and blue cloth — but each blow seemed to sap Saber's strength.

That was only natural. Heracles was a whole separate kind of monster.

At the rate she was falling behind, however, it would only be a matter of time before she was defeated. That was only natural, too. The differences between their abilities were so obvious that even the most oblivious of onlookers could see them. The only thing that could save her was intervention — intervention that could stall Heracles long enough for her to catch her breath.

Shirou could provide such an intervention.

Normal attacks wouldn't work. No, the way to understand it was that any attack below "A-Rank" would be cancelled. An ordinary arrow would fail, no matter how strongly he reinforced it. Rin's jewels would work, but Shirou had no such thing.

What he did have was a sword — a sword that he had experienced before, when Gilgamesh had used it against him and Saber, a sword whose history and making he had memorized as clearly as his own name.

Shirou hefted his bow and pulled the string back taut. In the back of his head, the hammer of a gun cocked back and fired.

"Trace…On."

Judge the concept of creation.

Visualize the basic structure.

Duplicate the component materials.

Match the original craftsmanship.

Sympathize with the experience of its growth.

Reproduce the accumulated age.

Excel every manufacturing process.

Laid upon his bowstring appeared a sword, a long silver sword with a golden hilt and bejeweled pommel. But he couldn't fire a sword, even this one. First, it needed to become something different, something he could unleash from his bow. If it wasn't something that he could fire from his bow, then it wouldn't hit its target. It wouldn't even come close.

He focused himself inward, focused his Reinforcement magic — he knew the sword, he knew it had the potential to become something else. His job was to make it _become_ that something else. In its form, there was the potential to be transformed, to have its shape remade.

The first time, he had used Reinforcement to give a few twigs the shape of arrows and a bow. This time, he was using Reinforcement to give a sword the form of an arrow.

When he opened his eyes, the sword affixed in his bow — Durandal, the Peerless Sword — had become long and streamlined. The blade had rounded into a more circular shaft, the guard had twisted in the opposite direction to become a facsimile of fletching, and the tip had broadened into something resembling a spade.

It had become an arrow.

With his bow set and his arrow made, Shirou adjusted his aim and tracked the path of Durandal's tip to Berserker. He exhaled, centered himself, and waited for the moment to strike.

Across the clearing, Berserker swung his axe-sword into the ground and rent it asunder. Saber was forced back — but it was the perfect moment. The moment when Saber was forced back, Shirou's fingers let go and Durandal soared. It soared through the air like a rocket and slammed into Berserker with all the force of one.

For a single moment, Berserker stopped. The sword was protruding from his chest, right through his heart. It seemed, for all intents and purposes, that Berserker had been killed — and then, like a mad god, Heracles came back to life and roared as he reached for the sword-arrow and ripped it from his chest in a spray of red blood.

But Shirou hadn't expected it to defeat him for good. No — to do such a thing, he would have had to have unleashed a sword like Gram inside Berserker himself.

"Now!"

Rin leapt from her hiding spot up in the tree and flung herself at Berserker. As she fell, jewels left her fingers and flew towards Heracles.

"Neun, Act, Sieben!" she incanted. "Stil, shiest Beschiessen, Ershie Ssung!"

"No, dodge it, Berserker!" Ilya screamed.

Three spears of ice whirled down like rain, but Berserker roared and swung, shattering them like glass. It didn't work — as Shirou knew it mustn't — and instead, the pieces of ice refroze on Berserker's arm, halting it.

But it was only the one arm.

Berserker tossed Durandal aside and grabbed Rin about the middle with his large hand — and even thought that was a ruse, a carefully gambled chess move, Shirou wondered what she was _thinking_, knowing now that Berserker had a stock of lives. To the side, Shirou felt more than saw Saber's surprised worry.

But there were other things to worry about.

The moment Rin used up her jewels, Berserker would be free to do as he pleased. The only option was to defeat him then, just before he got his bearings back. Since Excalibur was still out of the question, that left only one real option.

"Heh. Just as I thought," Rin smirked victoriously. She pulled out her jewels — Saber and Ilya gasped as the pieces fit together and they realized Rin's plan. Shirou didn't even bother looking. "Got you!"

Bullets of light fired from her hands. In the blink of an eye, Berserker's entire head was consumed and destroyed. Blood splattered everywhere — Shirou didn't have time to worry about the bits that splashed onto him.

The second Rin had used her jewels, he dropped his bow and reached for his side — the belt wrapped around his waist — and the patch of fabric stitched there. Caliburn's weight settled into his hand just as Ilya laughed.

"I must say, I certainly didn't expect something like that out of you, Rin!" she called. "For you to kill Berserker even once is quite an accomplishment! But my Heracles won't go down that easily!"

As if in reply to her boast, Heracles, completely restored, roared and lifted Rin higher as he squeezed threateningly, but not enough to kill. He was a mad dog waiting for an order.

"You can go ahead and kill her," Ilya said cruelly.

Berserker squeezed his powerful fist.

"D-don't think I'm done yet," Rin grinned savagely. She pulled out yet more gems. "T-there's more where that came from!"

Yet more bullets of light shot forth from Rin's hand and consumed Berserker's head again. Ilya screamed in the background.

"Berserker!" she cried furiously. "What are you waiting for?! Kill her already!"

But Shirou wasn't going to let Rin die. No, the idea hadn't even crossed his mind. By the time the order was given, Shirou had already crossed the clearing at a run. There was no chance he could have done so and escaped Berserker's notice, but he wasn't trying to — no, there was no point in a sneak attack against an enemy who was standing in broad daylight. So Shirou ran straight at Berserker and ducked under the frozen sword as it was swung.

First things first — saving Rin.

The frozen sword went wide — behind him, a number of trees cracked and snapped under the burst of air following the blow — and with two short steps, Shirou crossed the distance needed. With a single upward swing, Berserker's left arm was cleaved off at the elbow and tumbled down to the ground, with Rin still in its humongous fist.

"What the —"

"Shirou, what are you doing!?"

Shirou ignored Ilya and Saber as Berserker roared again.

Next, killing Berserker.

The frozen sword came around again.

By all accounts, even with half of his arm frozen, Berserker should still have enough strength to rend him limb from limb with a single solid blow. In his legend, Heracles had held up the world. He was so powerful that the air cleaved apart by his sword could do damage all on its own. And yet, as the axe-sword swung his way, an enormous amount of Prana pumped through him and Shirou felt stronger than ever before, stronger than he had any right to be.

He felt stronger than Berserker.

It was a titanic clash — in an instant, Shirou's Caliburn met the roughly hewn rock slab that had been fashioned into a sword. A thunderous crack rang through the air and the ground beneath Shirou's feet gave way as his shoes sank through the grass and dirt like sand. The burst of air that followed Berserker's swing washed over him like a gale and whipped his hair around wildly.

Against such a monstrosity, Shirou should have been crushed under the weight of Heracles' strength, but though his arms burned and his bones creaked, he didn't fold beneath the force of the blow.

Impossibly, inconceivably, unimaginably, Shirou blocked Heracles' attack.

"No way…"

Even still, his body ached. No, such strength was far beyond what a human should be capable of. It was a natural rule of the world that a human being could not possess that level of power, so it was only natural that Shirou's entire body erupted in pain from the effort. It was such pain that he wanted desperately to fall unconscious then and there, to fall into the sweet bliss of oblivion to escape the jolts of agony lancing up and down his spine.

But he couldn't stop there.

No, blocking the attack wasn't enough. Simply blocking the attack would do nothing except protect him from that single blow. If he allowed himself to succumb to the pain in that moment, he would be defeated and Saber would die.

Saber would die.

Shirou exhaled all the breath in his body in a single scream, and with strength that he shouldn't have, deflected the axe-sword to the side. With a thunderous boom, it cleaved apart the ground beneath it — but Shirou didn't care. Still screaming, he fluidly angled his sword around, flooded it with as much Prana as he dared, and thrust it into Berserker's body.

From the wound burst an intense flash of white light, a flash that consumed Berserker from the inside out. It was a light bright enough to burn the eyes, blinding in its intensity. But it lasted only a moment. As soon as it appeared, the light vanished and the forest returned to silence.

The lead-colored body of Berserker sagged forward. The great shoulders, each the size of a boulder, drooped down towards the ground. The head, with its leonine mane of black hair, hung limply from the thick, muscular neck. The gigantic arm holding his sword slackened.

"An admirable cut, boy," Heracles' deep voice rumbled. "It isn't often that I meet someone like you on the battlefield."

Shirou said nothing. He couldn't — without an enemy to overcome, he couldn't ignore the pain anymore, and it was all he could do to keep himself from collapsing. His breath came out in pants and every single part of his body screamed in agony.

"A magnificent sword," Heracles mused. "It's too bad. I would have liked to have met you at my best. Even though you're just a human, you defeated me here…A single blow took seven of my lives…"

Bits of lead-gray flesh peeled away from the wound, falling like rocks to the ground and fading into glittering dust. Slowly, piece by piece, the great body that had held up the world upon its shoulders wore away and vanished into the wind.

Like that, it was over.

The moment Berserker had disappeared completely, Caliburn fell uselessly from Shirou's fingers and he collapsed to the ground — only, at the last second, an arm wrapped around his chest and a shoulder propped itself up beneath his left arm. Shirou blinked. Through the dizzying agony that filled his entire being, he could make out a pair of blurry green eyes.

Saber.

Shirou could not stop himself from smiling as the world around him faded into black.

He'd done it.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Shirou woke up.

The sunlight streaming in through the window told him that it must have been a little past noon, so unless he'd been asleep for over a day, he'd slept for about five hours after collapsing in the forest.

"That long…huh…?" he murmured to himself.

"It's good to see that you're awake, Shirou," Saber's voice said. Shirou blinked groggily and looked over at her. She was sitting in seiza at his bedside, but even though her voice was warm and kind, her gentle smile hid a troubled look that made him concerned.

"Something wrong, Saber?" he asked her.

She looked surprised for a moment, then her brow knit with worry and a grimace crossed her lips.

"It's nothing," she said softly. "Just a bad dream. Please don't concern yourself, Shirou."

"…All right." Even if he didn't want to, there was no point in prying. When Saber didn't want to talk about something, it was almost pointless to try getting her to talk about it. If Saber wanted to talk about her dream, then she would talk about it when she was ready.

She nodded her thanks and stood. "It is time for lunch, Shirou, so as long as you have recovered, it would be best prepare food. Rin and Ilya should be awake soon."

"…Yeah."

Lunch sizzled on the stove ten minutes later, and as Shirou tended to the food, Saber quietly and carefully set places at the table for four. It was difficult to say, given how little they'd spoken since he'd gotten up, but he thought that she was taking things better than she had the first time around. The last time Ilya had started staying with them, Saber and Rin had both been adamantly against it, and the tension had left them moody and irritable.

This time, it seemed like Saber had quietly accepted Ilya into their lives. Though it was certainly a favorable turn of events, it was also a little unnerving.

Shirou could not think of any reason why Saber would be more accepting of Ilya this time than she had been last time.

The living room door slid open and Rin walked in dressed in the clothes she had worn for the past two days.

"Hey," she said with a yawn.

Shirou glanced back at her as she made her way to the fridge, then turned back to the food he was cooking.

"Good afternoon," he said politely.

"Yeah," she yawned again. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to help myself to some milk."

She reached into the fridge and pulled out the whole carton. "Geez," she groused, "I really would've liked to have slept some more, but then I'd have woken up with a headache. What a pain."

She poured herself a glass of milk, then put the carton in the back of the fridge, and after that, he heard her footsteps as she went to sit in the living room.

…She thought they were home free. Of course, Rin didn't know about Caster and Kuzuki or Gilgamesh and Kirei, so she thought that the War was essentially won now that Berserker was gone. Since she didn't know better, it was only natural that Rin thought that the worst was over.

He wished it was. But he knew better. He knew that Gilgamesh and Kirei were still out there, that Caster and Kuzuki were still out there, and that winning meant fighting them the right way or else everything would be lost.

He needed a weapon. Against Caster, Caliburn would probably work, but if he wanted to stand a chance against Gilgamesh, he needed something that could beat the weapons of the Gate of Babylon, and he couldn't rely on Avalon.

No, anything that he could do because of his future knowledge, as long as it was something that he couldn't conceivably do with the knowledge he would have had without knowing the future, was unusable. Avalon was too risky — it was an absolute last resort, and even then, it only guaranteed that they could block, not counterattack. He needed an ace in the hole that would let him win.

So he would try tonight. When everyone else had gone to sleep, he would sneak out and seek out the sort of weapon he needed.

"So what are you going to do now, Shirou?" Rin asked into the silence.

"Now?" he parroted.

"About Ilyasviel," Rin clarified. "Saber practically forced me to carry her back with us, but now that you're awake, what do you plan on doing about her?"

"Doing?" Shirou frowned. "I'm going to take care of her, of course. She can live here until the War is over. What happens after that is really up to her."

Rin arched an eyebrow. "After everything she did to us, you're just going to forgive her and invite her into your home? Shirou, that's honorable and all, but it's not very smart. You should just hand her over to Kirei and be done with it."

"No," Saber said quickly. Shirou blinked and looked back at her, and sitting at the table, Rin did, too, with a faint expression of surprise on her face. "No, I don't think it a problem to allow Ilyasviel to stay here, Rin. Without Berserker, she is no longer a threat."

"No longer a — do you hear what you're saying?" Rin demanded incredulously. "I'd expect this kind of thing from Shirou, but you, Saber, should understand perfectly well that just because she no longer has her Servant doesn't mean that Ilyasviel is no longer a threat! You should know that she could just as easily form a contract with a new Servant and attack you again!"

"I promised Shirou at the beginning of this War that we would treat the Masters with mercy, so long as they didn't needlessly involve innocents," Saber said stonily. "If he intends to extend sanctuary to Ilyasviel, then under the oath of that promise, I will not protest."

"Will you listen to yourself?" Rin cried. "A Master is a Master until their Command Spells disappear! There's nothing to stop Ilyasviel from finding a Servant without a Master and forming another pact! She could just as easily —!"

"But I won't," Ilya's voice said simply. She was standing in the doorway with her hands folded behind her. "Berserker was my Servant. Even though I could, I won't betray his memory by choosing another one. I'm sure you feel the same about your Archer, Rin."

Then, she smiled brightly. "But if Shirou loses, I'll take Saber. Since I lost Berserker, I won't let any other Master than Shirou win. So if Shirou loses, I'll simply take Saber and win for him."

Saber's right arm twitched as though she wanted to reach for her sword.

"That won't happen," she said confidently. "Shirou and I won't lose. There's no point in preparing for an eventuality that will never happen."

"It's the same either way," Ilya shrugged. "I don't care whether or not I take Saber as long as Shirou wins in the end."

"…Actually, this might not be such a bad idea," Rin mumbled suddenly.

"Rin?" Saber prodded curiously.

"Eh — sorry," Rin smiled apologetically. "I was just thinking. Ilya being who she is makes her a target, so wouldn't it be better if she was here rather than by herself or at the church? This way, we can force the other Masters to come here for her, which means we can have the advantage of home turf. So what I'm saying is…I have no more objections about protecting her."

Ilya smiled brightly. "So does that mean we're all getting along now?"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The moon was at his back as Shirou made his way across the courtyard to his shed. Behind him, the house was silent and sleeping — it had been a bit of a chore escaping Saber's notice long enough to leave the house.

Still, the night was quiet as he opened the door to the shed. There was nothing to disturb him, nothing to stop him as he made his way inside and closed the door behind him.

There was silence — before him, in the darkness, was his workshop. It contained all the things Shirou had ever worked on using his magic, all the things that he had projected and reinforced and that still remained in that condition. In short, it was his life's work, and for a normal Magus, that was paramount.

Shirou was not a normal Magus.

None of those things were his reason for visiting the shed.

Shirou disregarded everything else and turned instead to the magic circle that had summoned Saber that night a little over a week before. That was what he needed.

He reached up and turned on the light, then pulled out the book he'd brought with him and flipped it open to the dog-eared page detailing the process behind summoning Servants. According to the book, all that was required was the magic circle and the incantation; the Grail would take care of the rest. Reagents and catalysts could be used to specify which Heroic Spirit you wanted to summon as your Servant, but weren't a requirement. Without them, you simply got the one you were most suited for.

Of course, a single Master could only summon one Servant. That wasn't what he was there for. No, he wasn't looking for another ally to use in the fight against Gilgamesh. There wasn't any point — the only sort of ally who might be of use against the King of Heroes was another member of the Knights of the Round Table, and even if he were allowed to summon again, he wasn't sure he had any method of ensuring he got someone like Gawain or Lancelot.

But Gawain and Lancelot weren't the only significant figures in Arthurian myth. Just as important were Merlin, who had crafted Caliburn, and the Lady of the Lake, who had given Excalibur, Excalibur Galatine, and Arondight to King Arthur, Sir Gawain, and Sir Lancelot du Lac. Three of the greatest swords ever crafted, exceeded in glory and power only by the Sword of Rupture — they had all been held in trust by the Fairies.

So then, if you were looking for a weapon that could match even the greatest sword ever created, who else should you look for but the Lady of the Lake?

But Shirou hadn't had any idea how to contact such a figure. There were probably ways to reach her in Britain, provided you knew where to look, but Shirou had neither the time nor the means to do so. With that avenue closed, the only other option had been to piggyback on the Summoning System used to complete the Spiritual Evocation that created Servants.

Or something like that. Shirou didn't really understand everything he'd read in the books Rin had given him, but he understood enough to know that it just might work.

Right then.

Shirou stepped up to the magic circle and took a deep breath, then flipped his Magic Circuits on. He looked back down at the page the book had been opened to and read aloud.

"Silver and steel to the origin," he began in what he hoped was a strong voice. "A foundation of stone and the Archduke of Contracts. The ancestor is my great master, Schweinorg."

At his feet, the magic circle came to life and began to glow. Emboldened, Shirou continued.

"The alighted wind becomes a wall," he said. "The gates of all four directions close. From the Crown, come forth and follow the forked road to the Kingdom. Fill, fill, fill, fill, fill. Repeat five times, but destroy each when filled."

The glow grew brighter and brighter, and a sudden wind stirred to life and rattled the tools hanging around the shed.

"I hereby propose!" he said as loudly as he dared. "My fate shall be in your hands and my sword yours to wield! Abiding by the oaths of this contract, if you accede to this will and reason, then answer! Here is my oath: I am the one who becomes all that is good in this world. I am the one who shall dispose of evil in this world."

The light grew blinding and Shirou had to squint to see anything.

"Thou, seven days clad in the Great Trinity, arrive upon this plane, O Keeper of Balance!"

The light surged, the wind howled, and then — stopped. Nothing had appeared. In the circle where his intended summon was supposed to appear was nothing. There hadn't even been an explosion to tell him that he'd made a mistake in the process or that his modified incantation was wrong.

There was nothing.

Except…as the glow dissipated, Shirou began to feel drowsy. As the glowing lines of his magic circle faded, so, too, did Shirou's vision. The circle was empty, but with every passing second, the moonlight streaming in from outside grew dimmer and dimmer, until, finally, Shirou felt his body go slack as the world turned black.

When he woke, he was standing — he didn't know how, he didn't know why, but when he finally regained his sense of self, he had gone from lying on the ground to standing — and before him stretched out a large lake. The grass beneath his feet tickled his toes and a light, warm breeze danced across his skin.

It was that moment when he realized that he was naked.

The moment he had realized that his clothes had mysteriously vanished, a woman appeared out in the water — appeared so suddenly and so silently that she might simply have been a ghost. The moment he saw her, she also saw him, and when she did, she started walking. The water around her sloshed gently as she strode towards him, growing taller and taller as more of her body was revealed from beneath the surface of the lake. Her hair was long and dark, her skin was fair and clear, and from one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen, her brilliant blue eyes stared out at him.

Hanging limply over her body was a gown made of blue silk and embroidered with gold. A golden sash was tied simply about her waist, and the folds of the silk gown fell down her body like the waves of an ocean.

She came to a sudden halt at the edge of the water. At the same time, both she and he looked down at the place where the lake ended and land began, then looked back up at each other and met the other's eyes.

"It was your intent to reach out to me," she said quietly. Her voice cascaded down upon his ears, at once both as gentle as the calm lake around her and as powerful as a rushing waterfall. "But you did not call out. You extended your hand and reached for me, but my name did not grace your lips."

She took one step further, just centimeters before her toes would leave the water, and for some strange, inexplicable reason, Shirou was compelled to cross the distance that she could not, and he stepped closer to her. He could not say why, but his own nudity seemed unimportant, even as he came so close that he could feel her breath upon his lips.

Her hand rose, closed the scant distance that still separated them, and rested upon his heart, upon the scar that Lancer had left behind a lifetime ago. He shivered — the flesh her fingers touched erupted with ecstasy.

"So close, and yet so far," she whispered. "A fleeting distance, and yet wider than the largest gulf."

Shirou could say nothing. He daren't even breathe. It was as though she had cast a spell on him and stolen his voice away. No matter how much he wanted to speak, his lips refused to move and his vocal cords were paralyzed.

And then, just as suddenly, her hand fell and she was backing away, shrinking into the water with each step.

"You know what you must do," her voice whispered in his ear. "When you are ready, call for me, and I will answer."

Her blue eyes stared out at him as her mouth, and then her nose, descended beneath the water, and then, so abruptly that his heart jolted, the world vanished and Shirou awoke on the cold floor of his shed.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Oh noes! Stronger than Berserker?! How is that possible!? Well…you'll find out eventually.**

**If you think about it, we skipped the bath scene where Shirou walks in on a naked Saber. But that's the fault of the fact that Shirou isn't getting sword practice from Saber this time around — without anything to get sweaty over, neither of them needed a bath so desperately.**

**Don't give up on Archer yet. He's still around somewhere…**

"**The Creator's Room" is a forum of mine that spans all of my current stories and a few of the future ones. If you have something you want to say or a question you want to ask that you don't want to put in the privacy of a review (where you're the only one who would read the response), then ask it on that forum. That said, I do appreciate reviews, I really do, so if you have a review you want to submit, please do.**

**www -dot- fanfiction -dot- net/ forum/ The-Creator-s-Room/ 118200/**

**Also, I've gotten a review about Time Travel and how it works, so I'll say this: Nasu-verse Time Travel _does not_ work like the different real world theories about time travel do. Nasu-verse Time Travel is the realm of the Fifth Magic, and as I understand it (via spoilers from Mahou Tsukai no Yoru), True Magic (or Sorcery) is achieved by _manipulating data in the Root of All Things (Akasha)_. In other words, to Time Travel using the Fifth Magic, you are reaching into Akasha and changing something in the timeline — your place in it, someone else's place in it, etc. — so Shirou is, in fact, in the past of his own timeline instead of changing the timeline of a parallel world (which would be something achieved by the Second Magic and our favorite troll, Zelretch). Even then, it's possible to use the Second Magic to change your place on your own world's timeline — "Operation of Parallel Worlds" means that if you can shift yourself to a point in the past of a parallel universe, you should be able to do it for your own universe, too.**

**In short, magecraft is executing a program on your computer. True Magic is modding the OS.**

**To be specific about the Magic that brought Shirou into the past is difficult, but I think it's easiest to imagine it as a bastardized version of the Third and maybe the Fifth or Second — Shirou's soul was moved along the time axis to the beginning of the Grail War on his world's timeline, then placed inside of his past self's body. It's difficult because this is a really gray area, but the result should have negated the future that Shirou came from, hence why Angra Mainyu didn't go galavanting off after sending Shirou back. Because it's not moving along parallel worlds, but rather back through a single world, the events of the future will automatically be corrected to reflect the changes Shirou will make on the timeline.**

**Can I say how gray the whole time travel thing is?**

**Also, I have a revision of this story's estimated length. At the start, I estimated about 21 chapters. However, after revising my notes on the storyline and accounting for the events as they will occur, I estimate that this story will have closer to 15 chapters than 21. **

_**I have no regrets. This is the only path.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	9. The World is Tumbling Down

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter IX: The World is Tumbling Down  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

Shirou woke up from a dreamless sleep early the next morning. He blinked his eyes open, once, twice, three times, as his vision went from blurry to focused in the cool light of the early morning. He was in his room, asleep on his futon, lying on his side.

Once his brain had caught up with the orientation of the world, sensation came back next — after awareness of his position relative to up and down, smell, touch, and hearing came next. He became aware of the soft sound of another's breathing, the crisp, clean smell of a woman's hair under his nose, and the warm body pressed so close to him that he could feel it every time her chest expanded as she inhaled.

His first thought was, _"When did Saber start using Rin's shampoo?"_

His second was, _"I want to wake up this way every morning."_

His third thought was the realization that something had changed, because Saber was sleeping much closer to him than she usually did (as he ought to know, having slept beside her for the better part of the last week). He wondered what it was that had spurred her to bury herself into his chest at night, as though he were some overly large protective blanket.

Immediately following that, he remembered the night spent in the ruins, the silky feel of her skin, of her legs, so small and lean yet so powerful, wrapped with nearly crushing force around his hips, of her body flush against his — and, quite suddenly, the reason became as obvious as a zebra with polka dots.

"_Right, Shirou," _he said to himself, _"you made love to this girl and you didn't expect your relationship to change at all — never mind that this is exactly what you were trying to accomplish in the first place."_

He felt stupid, but didn't think on it much — anyone who hung around with Rin for long enough wound up feeling stupid on a regular basis.

Getting out of bed would be a lot harder from now on, Shirou could not help thinking. With Saber sleeping so close, managing to get out of bed without waking her would be nearly impossible.

Well, that was one of the trials of success, right?

"_May you live in interesting times,"_ the old curse went. _"May you find what you're looking for."_

It seemed he had been struck by both, though, came the amusing thought as he gently tried to free his right arm. If you couldn't call the Grail Wars "interesting times," then there wasn't much else that could fit the definition. And, of course, what he was looking for was currently pinning his right arm to the floor.

"You are awake, Shirou?" Saber asked suddenly. The vibration of her voice hummed through her chest and into his arm, and he froze. Had he not been gentle enough to keep from interrupting her sleep?

"…Yes," he said at length. "I just woke up a moment ago. I was going to go make breakfast."

Saber hummed. "Yes," she said, "this is as good a time as any to start the day."

She sat up from the bed and off his arm, twisting around as she peeled the covers away from her body. Shirou didn't move. She paused and looked up at him.

"Is something the matter, Shirou?"

"…No, nothing."

Shirou stood up and waited for her to climb to her feet, as well. His entire right arm tingled and was suddenly cold — even his body was missing the comfort of her warmth. He felt like a naked blade, missing the protection of its sheath.

A bit ironic, since she was "Saber" and he carried her sheath, Avalon, inside himself.

"We'd best hurry," Saber said sensibly. "Taiga and Sakura will be along soon enough, and we should be prepared for them when they do."

"Right," Shirou nodded simply.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Shirou had just started making breakfast when Rin stumbled into the living room with a mumbled greeting and plopped down at the table. Shirou called a greeting back, and so did Saber, but he expected that she hadn't heard either of them, not with the way her head lolled back and forth like she was desperately trying to keep herself awake.

There was a long moment where Rin did nothing but mumble incoherently, then, as Shirou continued cooking, Saber took mercy on her and gave her a tall glass of milk. Shirou heard Rin murmur a sleepy thanks, and then, a few seconds later, the sound of the empty glass hitting the table a little harder than necessary.

Geez. Rin was really terrible in the morning.

Well, it couldn't be helped. As much as some of her habits were a bit questionable, Rin was his ally, and more importantly, his friend. He would no sooner kick her out than he would Saber or Ilya.

"So what are you going to do, Shirou?" Rin asked after a long silence. She seemed fully awake, now. Shirou didn't really understand — was milk _that_ effective at waking her up?

"About what?"

"About the other Masters," Rin clarified. "There's still three left, and the Holy Grail War can't last forever. The best idea would be to take the initiative before they can come after you — force them to react to you, so you can control the momentum of the battle."

Shirou hummed.

"Well, Archer, Berserker, and Rider are all out," he mused aloud, "so that means that the guys left are Caster, Assassin, and that Lancer from the first night."

He didn't count Gilgamesh, of course, because there was still no reason he should know about that impossible Servant. Well, he didn't count Gilgamesh out loud, but he did in his head.

Either way, he needed that weapon, so if he could, he'd try again when everyone went to bed later on. It was just a matter of figuring out what he'd done wrong the night before and fixing the problem. If he did that, everything should go smoothly.

"And at least one of them is up on mountain," Rin pointed out. "Given what they were doing, though, I'm willing to bet that it's probably a Caster up at the Ryûdô Temple, which will probably make things a lot harder for us."

Shirou paused to look back at her.

"_Were_ doing? Past tense? Here, Saber."

He handed Saber a plate of rice-balls, and she took it and carried it over to the table. Shirou thought, for a moment, that it felt rather like he and Saber were a married couple hosting a bunch of friends, but wisely didn't say so aloud.

"Yeah," Rin affirmed with a nod. "Whoever it is stopped gathering energy sometime last night, which means they've accomplished whatever it was they were trying to do. A Caster means that whoever it is was gathering energy to prepare for a fight, and with a Caster Servant, that could mean that they either have very powerful, very draining magic, or that they're not a very powerful Caster in the first place."

"Wait a moment, Rin," Saber interrupted. She set the fresh loaf of bread on the table as well. "This is about that discussion you had the other day? Then this Master or Servant who is gathering energy — they are doing it by draining the life force from the townspeople?"

"Exactly," Rin said. "Or they were, at any rate. They've stopped now, which means either they've got all the energy they need, or all the energy they could hope to gather in time for what they're going to do. It probably means they're going on the offensive, so we should do that, too."

"Not _now_," Shirou said when she gave him an intense look. "I mean, not in broad daylight."

"Of course not," Rin waved it away. "It'd probably be a good idea to try tonight, even if only to test whatever defenses are set up at that place."

"Very well, then," Saber agreed. "But that only takes care of one — there are still three other Servants —"

At that moment, the bell to the front door rang and everyone stopped.

"That'll be Sakura," Shirou murmured.

"We'll finish this discussion later," Rin promised as she stood from the table. The living room door slid open, then closed, and her footsteps started down the hall.

"Are you sure about this, Shirou?" Saber asked after Rin had left. "There is still time to rest and recover our energy."

Because he was ahead of schedule, she was technically right. They had the time to rest up and make sure they were at their absolute best before trying to confront Caster, and if he were honest, he would have preferred take one more night to try his summoning thing. Even so…

"The sooner we take care of this, the better," he said firmly.

Even if he wasn't as prepared as he would like, Caster needed to be defeated. An enemy like that would only wait so long before attacking, and it really would be a better idea to take the offense against a Servant as devious as Caster.

Sakura walking into the living room stopped their conversation.

"Good morning, Senpai," she said with a smile.

"Good morning, Sakura," he greeted with a wave. She blinked at him.

"Oh," she said, "I see you've already started breakfast."

"Yeah, so don't worry about it."

"Um," Sakura fidgeted. "A-Alright."

She and Rin sat back down at the table and started talking — Shirou tuned it out, for the most part, occasionally handing another plate of food to Saber, who assisted him wordlessly. It was nothing overly important, so there wasn't any reason for him to eavesdrop on whatever it was they were talking about.

Ten minutes later, the front door slammed open.

"SHIROU, I'M BACK!" Fuji-nee's voice cried.

There was a beat of silence, and then heavy footfalls thundered through the hallway and the living room door was thrown open.

"Your beloved Fuji-nee has finally returned!" Fuji-nee crowed proudly.

"Ah — Good morning, Fuji-nee," Shirou called over his shoulder. He handed one more plate to Saber, then finished the last dish, turned off the stove, and picked it up himself. "Breakfast is ready, so you arrived just in time."

"Good morning, Fujimura-sensei," Rin and Sakura greeted.

"Good morning, Taiga," Saber said politely as she set her plate down on the table. "How are the repairs of the school going?"

"So slow," Fuji-nee groaned as she loaded up her plate. Shirou set the final dish down and sat next to Saber. "The police are still investigating what caused it all, so we haven't even gotten a chance to see the extent of the damage yet. At this rate, we'll never get anything done."

"That's terrible!" Sakura said sympathetically.

Shirou saw a secret smile steal across Rin's face for a moment, but it was gone a second later when she blinked owlishly and glanced down at her food.

"I'd almost forgotten," she announced to the table. "We need to get Ilya up."

"Ilya?" Fuji-nee parroted.

Rin ignored her, stood, said, "I'll be right back," and left.

Fuji-nee's face wrinkled into a scowl and she rounded on Shirou. A sense of dread dropped into his stomach. "Shirou! Who is this Ilya girl? Do you have _another_ one staying with you?"

"She's a relative," Shirou explained quickly, before Fuji-nee could get started. "Erm, that is — she's a relative of Kiritsugu's from abroad, but she never got the news about him dying, so she, uh, came to visit, and, well, uh, I offered to let her stay for a while…?"

There was a long moment of silence. Shirou winced and waited for the inevitable bout of screaming that would follow.

"HOW MANY GIRLS ARE YOU GONNA GATHER HERE, HUH?!" Fuji-nee erupted. "SHIROU! DO YOU THINK THIS IS SOME KIND OF ERO-GAME?!"

Shirou winced and braced for the practice sword that would find his head at any moment —

"Could you guys keep it down? I just woke up a minute ago."

Except that Ilya's voice interrupted, and she was standing in the door dressed in a purple blouse and white skirt, rubbing one bleary eye with her right hand. It fell back to her side, she blinked at them all once, and then loosed a jaw-cracking yawn.

"Ah — Good morning, Ilya," Shirou greeted reflexively. "Did you sleep well last night?"

Ilya mumbled something noncommittally, then plopped down at the free spot next to Rin's seat, took a deep whiff of the food laid out in front of her, and seemed to come to life.

"Wow!" she gushed. "This smells great!"

Rin sat down and poked her in the shoulder with one long finger. "Now, now, don't forget your manners."

Ilya blinked and looked around the table at Sakura and Fuji-nee, then smiled. "Sorry," she said, "I forgot to introduce myself."

She bowed as much as she could while sitting down. "My name is Ilya, Ilyasviel von Einzbern. Pleasure to meet you."

"So cute!" Fuji-nee gushed and wriggled around in her seat. She gave Ilya a thumbs up. "Nice to meet ya, Ilya! Just call me Fuji-nee, because from now on, I'm your big sister!"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"So, what are you going to do, Shirou?" Rin asked again once Sakura and Fuji-nee had left.

Shirou frowned and paused for a moment on the dish he was washing.

"I guess," he started slowly, "we're going to attack the Temple tonight."

"Then we had best be prepared," Saber said from beside him. She was drying the dishes that he washed and stacking them back in their proper places. "Especially if Caster and her Master have an ally staying with them."

"They do," Ilya interrupted. "You guys are talking about that stuff going on up at the Ryûdô Temple, right?"

"It's nothing that concerns you," Rin told her coolly. "Little girls should do what little girls do and go outside to play."

"I could do that," Ilya said sweetly. "But then I wouldn't get to tell you what I know about Caster."

Beside him, Saber stopped and turned to look at Ilya. "You know about what is going on up at the Temple?"

"Yup!" Shirou could practically hear the bright smile that must have been on Ilya's face. "All those coma victims in town? It's definitely not the Master up at Ryûdô Temple. It's Caster's work."

"Hold on a second," Rin said. "You just said that Caster and her Master have an ally staying with them, right? What did you mean by that?"

"Just what I said," Ilya declared simply. "Caster is the one responsible for the stuff happening at the Temple, and there's a second Servant up there with her. I guess you guys haven't seen him yet, so I'll just tell you that it's Assassin."

Assassin would be a problem, now that Shirou thought of it. Assassin, being who he was, would be perfectly willing to let Shirou and Rin past, but there was no way he'd let Saber go, too. It was the nature of Assassin as a swordsman to seek out opponents worth fighting — at least, the Assassin that had been summoned for this particular Grail War. Saber was the class that focused on the sword and sword skills, so it was only natural that someone like Assassin would want to fight someone like Saber.

But without Saber's help…Yes, without Saber's help, fighting Caster and Kuzuki would be nearly impossible. They hadn't managed it last time, and they'd only been saved by Gilgamesh's interference.

Could they count on the same thing again? No, Shirou didn't think so.

"So there are two Servants up at the Temple," Rin murmured to herself. "So, wait, does that mean that the Master up at Ryûdô Temple somehow managed to get himself two Servants?"

"Basically," Ilya agreed. "But the one who summoned Assassin is actually Caster."

"No way," Rin shook her head. "A Servant doesn't have the power to summon another Servant! That's impossible!"

Ilya giggled. "Normally, you'd be right. But any Magus can summon a Servant for the Grail Wars, and who do you think is the best Magus in the city?"

"Caster. Of course," Rin sighed. "A Servant of the Caster class is, by definition, a Magus. So she just used her skill and power as a Magus to summon Assassin as her Servant. But if Caster is Assassin's Master, then who is Caster's Master?"

"Caster is a Magus beyond any modern Magus," Ilya spoke with her rare solemnity. "She doesn't really need to have a Master if she doesn't want one. She just killed the one who had summoned her, then secluded herself up at Ryûdô Temple to take advantage of the Leyline. Her current Master is an ordinary human, and she's probably got him under some sort of curse or hypnotism to make him into her obedient slave. It isn't that surprising, really, when you consider that Caster is Medea, the Witch of Betrayal."

"So that's who we're up against," Rin smiled grimly. "Medea of Colchis, the Witch of Betrayal."

"And what if her Master is perfectly willing?" Shirou pointed out coldly. "What if all this talk about him being a puppet is wrong, and he's actually complicit in all of this?"

Kuzuki had admitted, up front and to his face, that he was nothing more or less than a killer, the kind that stalked the night, at home in the dark. Whether he indulged in murderous tendencies outside of the Grail War was moot; he was exactly the kind of person that shouldn't be left alone.

Rin arched an eyebrow. "I don't know if I believe my ears right now. Shirou, who offered sanctuary to a Master who tried to kill him on more than one occasion, is suggesting that Medea's Master might not be a bewitched slave forced to carry out her every whim? Out of all of us, Shirou, you've always been the one least willing to harm an enemy Master —"

"It's different," Shirou insisted. "Ilya was only ever after me, so it doesn't matter. If Caster's Master is actually taking part in this whole thing of his own free will, then that means he's endangered the lives of everyone in the city. If that's the case, then if we let him go, stopping Caster won't mean anything."

Rin sighed again. "You have an uncanny knack for making a very good point, Shirou. But how are we supposed to find the Master, then? Do we just defeat Caster and ransack the Temple to find out which of them is her Master?"

"That is not a feasible option," Saber said. "After we defeat Caster, her link to her Master will be gone, and so finding her Master using that link would be impossible."

"And even still, her Master is an ordinary person, so whether or not the Command Seals work properly for him is questionable, too," Rin mused.

"They should," Ilya informed them matter-of-factly.

"Well, you said that there was another Master up at school, right?" Shirou asked. "But you said it wasn't Shinji. So maybe we should start by checking out the people from school who live up at the Temple?"

Rin gave a small nod. "That's a pretty good idea, I think. Well, it's not the best — and I said that there was another Magus in the city, not that there was another Master in the school — but it's the most we've got to go on, right now. So who do we know that lives up at the Temple?"

"Issei," Shirou said immediately, "and Kuzuki-sensei, too."

Rin hummed. "That's suspiciously convenient. Alright, then. We'll check on Kuzuki-sensei first. That's what we'll do tonight instead of attacking the Temple. He's up at school right now, right?"

"That's where Fuji-nee's at," Shirou said. "School might be cancelled, but the teachers still have to meet and discuss what's going to happen when everything is sorted out and classes start up again."

"Then we'll go after him tonight, when he's on his way back to the Temple," Rin said. "I'll hit him with a low powered Gandr shot. If we're wrong and he's not a Master, then the worst he'll experience is a few flu symptoms for a day or two. But if we're right…"

"Caster will probably defend him," Saber concluded.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

That was how they found themselves crouched in an alleyway later that night, with only the streetlights to illuminate the dark. Shirou had Caliburn clenched in his hands and Saber stood at the ready decked out in her full armor. Rin looked relaxed, but Shirou, who knew her better than most, could see the tension in her posture and her legs.

"If he goes straight back up to the Temple from school, he'll have to come down this road," Rin whispered quietly. Shirou already knew that, but kept his mouth shut. "I've put up a Bounded Field to block out sound in case this winds up being a fight, so we can do this without catching attention from bystanders."

"And if this does turn into a fight?" Shirou whispered back.

"Then Saber takes care of Caster while you and I handle Kuzuki-sensei," Rin answered. "If all goes well, both will be taken care of quickly and quietly and the only one we'll have to worry about is Lancer."

"Somehow, I don't think this is gonna work out quite so cleanly," Shirou mumbled.

He already knew that it wouldn't, but what worried Shirou the most was that Caster might use Rule Breaker and screw everything up after he'd come so far. No, above all else, there was the fear that everything he'd worked for, every change he had tried to make and every change he _had_ made, would all be ruined in one blow from Caster's Noble Phantasm.

That meant that, above all else, they couldn't afford to let this leave beyond this area. If Caster escaped, then it was all as good as over. There was only one path to victory before him and he had to take it while he still had the chance.

The sound of footsteps broke Shirou from his thoughts.

"Hear that?" Rin asked quietly, so quietly that he almost didn't hear her. "He's coming this way. Get ready."

A shadow passed in front of the light of the convenience store sign across the street, and then continued on as the footsteps clacked against the pavement. The moment the shadow — Kuzuki, as his features had been illuminated in the light of the sign — had turned its back to them, Rin rushed out of the alleyway as quietly as she possibly could and lifted her finger.

With her hand in the shape of a gun, a small black ball grew on her fingertip, let out a barely-there warble, and shot off like a bullet for the back of Kuzuki's head. For a moment, it looked like it would hit him and their suspicions would be proven wrong, and for that same moment, Shirou wondered if his knowledge of the future could be wrong, that Caster had found someone else to be her Master.

But then, from out of nowhere, a black shroud appeared and deflected the Gandr shot. It landed softly on the ground, immobile.

"It was blocked?" Rin murmured.

The shroud on the ground surged upwards and grew to the size of a full human being — "Teleportation," Rin growled — and Caster was suddenly standing at Kuzuki's back, dressed in her long, black and purple robes.

"I believe I warned you that this might happen, Souichirou-sama," Caster said silkily. "I told you that you should remain at the Temple in case something like this should occur."

"I would say exactly the opposite," Kuzuki intoned deeply as he turned around. "It seems to me that our trap has been sprung, and our mice have finally shown themselves."

"That's true," Caster admitted with smug glee. "And what a big catch we've got tonight — we've got the cute little Second Owner, Tousaka Rin, our lovely little Saber, King Arthur, and the Master who managed to get his hands on a genuine Noble Phantasm, Emiya Shirou. So you might as well come out, Emiya-kun."

Shirou gripped Caliburn tightly and surged out of the alleyway to stand defensively in front of Rin — Saber stood beside him a moment later.

"Oh?" Caster crowed. "It seems you catch on rather quick, don't you, Emiya-kun?"

"If you know who we are, then you probably know what we're capable of, too, don't you?" Shirou demanded. "So you know what would happen if I used this sword on you right now."

"My, it seems he's quite a bit more merciless than you originally estimated, Souichirou-sama," Caster tittered. "Of course I know, boy, but I also know that you're not foolish enough to believe you could charge that up and hit me before I managed to escape with my Master."

And she was right, too. It would take only a second or two to turn on his Circuits and fill Caliburn with Prana, but a Servant like Caster could tell the moment he did and she could simply teleport away. Trying to hit her like that would be nothing more than a waste of Prana.

"But this doesn't have to end in a fight," Caster purred silkily. "There's no reason we have to be enemies, so my proposal is this: join forces with us."

"You think…after what you've done to the people of this town?!" Saber growled.

"Just listen," Caster insisted. "Your objective is the Holy Grail, correct? In that case, why bother fighting? I know how to call down the Grail without us having to kill each other."

And if Caliburn didn't work, then just what could Shirou use? It needed to be something that could be precise, but also something that wouldn't take too much time and could overwhelm Caster without harming Rin or Saber.

"You mean…" Rin whispered. "You know how —?"

"I know how the Grail works," Caster went on. "If you agree to cooperate, then I'd be perfectly willing to share the Holy Grail and its blessings with all of you."

"And just how…how do you intend to summon the Holy Grail?" Saber demanded.

Caster smiled, an evil expression that was clearly visible beneath the cowl of her cloak, even in the darkness of the night.

"The Grail requires a powerful enough leyline, which is part of the reason it was set up here in the first place," Caster explained. "With the Grail set up here on the leyline, all you need is a vessel and enough Prana to fill it up. With those two things, calling forth the Grail is actually rather simple."

Could he use the bow and sword-arrow trick he'd used on Berserker? But that would take too long. Between the time required to Trace the bow and the time required to Trace and reshape the sword, that was a whole lot longer than it would take to use just Caliburn. That idea was out.

"And just how many souls would doing all of that require, Caster?" Rin asked with that sardonic sort of grin on her face. "How many lives would you need to sacrifice to gather the kind of Prana we're talking about, here?"

"Every single soul in the city," Caster explained easily, as though she were talking about the weather. It burned Shirou not to retort, but he forced himself to focus. He still needed a plan. "But even that won't be enough to keep it working indefinitely. Then again, there are far too many humans in this world anyway, so I'm sure that I could always find supplies to maintain it when the need arises — plenty of logs to throw on the fire, if you know what I mean."

Logs for the fire — the fire in Fuyuki park, that hell that had forged Emiya Shirou — Emiya Kiritsugu, who had been cursed by the sludge from the Grail and wandered out into that fire, looking for survivors — Gilgamesh, who had achieved a full form and body in the sludge from the Grail that had caused that very fire —

Gilgamesh.

_Gate of Babylon_.

"Just one other question," Rin said. "The vessel you need — it would have to be a Magus, right? Your Master isn't a Magus, so he doesn't qualify. But not just that. It wouldn't have to just be any old Magus, it'd have to be a Magus of extraordinary potential, right? Someone who could handle channeling all of that Prana, even if they were burned out in the process."

In his head, Shirou imagined the innumerable swords that had existed within the Gate of Babylon. He didn't go over them all in detail — he just gave each a swift check to make sure that there weren't any holes, then moved on to the next one. Yes, that was how Gilgamesh had defeated Caster: an unending rain of Noble Phantasms.

"My, you're quite clever, aren't you?" Caster purred. "Unfortunately, you're right — what I need is a Magus of extraordinary potential to serve as the vessel to call down the Grail. You might suffice, girl, but I suppose you're going to say no, regardless. What luck I have that the Einzbern have so generously supplied us with one already."

Instantly, the swords Shirou had been prepared to call up slipped away from his mind. "Ilya!"

"Race you!" Caster sing-songed. She threw her cloak up and in an instant, she and Kuzuki were gone.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"The Bounded Field's gone!" Rin called out as they dashed through the front gate and towards the front door.

"Which means that she's already here!" Shirou said. He threw the front door open and was immediately hit by Medea's stench — he must've been too distracted to notice it before. The only way to describe it was "bloodstained silk."

Shirou ran inside and into the hallway without even bothering to remove his shoes. No, it wasn't that he didn't bother, nor even simply that there wasn't time, it was that he couldn't find the presence of mind to remove his shoes. Concern for Ilya flooded through his entire being, because last time, Caster had targeted Sakura, but this time, she had specifically made mention of Ilya.

Ilya, who had been intended to be the vessel for the Grail from the beginning, who already had the souls of Berserker, Rider, and Archer inside of her, and so who would be far easier to prepare than Sakura would have been.

Shirou made straight for the living room and threw open the door. The lights were off, but there, in the darkness —

"Oh. I thought I'd just take her, but you made it back here faster than I estimated you would," Caster said silkily. Cradled in one arm, there was Ilya, limp and unconscious, and in the other, Fuji-nee hung like a ragdoll with one of Caster's fingers pressed threateningly against her jugular.

"Caster!" Saber's voice growled from behind him. Shirou's grip on Caliburn became so tight that his hand felt numb.

There was no way out. Caster had two hostages, and Shirou had only been prepared for this moment if it had been Sakura who had been taken. But it wasn't Sakura, it was Fuji-nee and Ilya, and there was nothing they could do to rescue either before Caster could kill one and take the other.

None of them could attack her. Caster's finger would light up first. Even if Shirou attacked, even if Saber attacked, even if Rin cast a spell, Caster's finger would light up first and Fuji-nee's head would explode like a tomato.

There were no words to describe the impotent fury that boiled up inside of Shirou and settled into a frigid calm in his head. There were no words to describe the sudden clarity that filled his mind. There were no words to describe just how horrible Shirou's revenge would be the moment Caster decided to kill Fuji-nee.

"You were careless, Emiya-kun," Caster said. "You should have put more care into your Bounded Field. I tore it away without any effort whatsoever."

"So you're taking a hostage to ensure your escape? Is that it?" Rin asked in her usual tone.

"I'm afraid it's not that simple," Caster purred. "You see, I wasn't entirely forthcoming earlier. It's certainly true that I need a vessel for the Grail, and using the souls of the townspeople is definitely a way to get the proper amount of energy…so I suppose you could say that it's all about my own selfish wants, now."

She smiled at Shirou. "Would you like to join up with me, boy?"

Shirou's mind slammed to a halt. "_What_?"

Caster tittered. "This is the Fifth Holy Grail War, but I don't think there's been a Master like you in any single one of them. Oh, there's certainly another specimen like you currently in my employ, but you're a living, breathing human being, and that makes you so much more interesting — and so much easier to control."

Shirou grit his teeth so hard that he thought they might crack. "You think…you can just come in here and…!"

Caster laughed again.

"You shouldn't need to think about it," Caster said. "You've already lost. The entire town is mine to do with as I please, and not even your Saber can stand up to me. The amount of energy I have access to is infinite — with a supply like that, no one can hope to stand up to me. So then…will you obey me, Emiya Shirou?"

"…Let go of Fuji-nee."

It was a stupid question that wasn't even worth answering. He had gone into this second chance knowing that he would have to face Caster again eventually. Nothing she could say now would change the fact that he had to eliminate her from the Grail War.

Caster frowned.

"Maybe you didn't hear me," she said in a firmer, less silky voice. "I said that you've already lost, so join me."

"I don't care about any of that," Shirou told her. "Let go of Fuji-nee."

"My, what a hard man," she remarked. "So eager to throw away my generosity. It's rather disappointing. My offer from before was genuine, you know. I was perfectly willing to share the Grail."

Shirou scowled. "The Holy Grail is worthless. It has nothing to do with _any_ of this. The reason I'm in this War…It's to stop people like you!"

And Caster laughed again. "The Holy Grail has nothing to do with this? Idiot boy! The Holy Grail is the very reason you're here! It's the very reason you, the sole survivor of that fire ten years ago, stand in front of me right now! That is why you — you have the right to detest the Grail, and the right to take your revenge for the suffering it's put you through."

She chuckled a little, and the broad grin that split her lips was positively maddening. "I said earlier that I lied, Emiya Shirou. I don't need the townspeople to fill the Grail, I simply need the enormous energy output of that Servant you have there. If you helped me, you and your Saber, then I could call down the Grail right now and allow you the wish you want deep in your heart."

Her smile turned sinister. "All you have to do is accept."

If he had been the naïve boy who had first gone into the Fifth Holy Grail War, then Shirou felt that he may have been tempted to accept her offer. But he already knew Medea's true character, and he already knew about the true nature of the corrupted Grail, so there was only one answer he could possibly give.

"I refuse," he said solemnly.

From the look on her face, the way her mouth dropped open in surprise, she hadn't expected him to refuse. "_What_?"

"I have no need for the Grail, no desire for it," Shirou said. "And even though I promised Saber I'd help her get it if she wanted it, I refuse to accept it when it means stepping on all those lives you've already sacrificed for this!"

Caster was silent for a long moment, then she laughed again. "Then I guess, since I have no more use for her, I'll just dispose of this hostage —"

"Damn it!" Shirou made to move as Caster's finger began to glow.

"Caster!" But Saber was faster and had already crossed the distance, her invisible sword cleaving downwards —

Except that the black cloak fluttered and Caster was no longer in front of her, but behind her, and held in one spider-like hand was the long, crooked dagger, Rule Breaker, lifted up to be stabbed down.

"What —?"

Saber spun around, surprise etched across her face, and if she had reacted just a little bit faster, she would have escaped the dagger whose tip plunged past her armor and into her chest. The blank, stupefied amazement on her face was completely unnecessary — the dagger had little worth as a weapon, and even what it did was incapable of leaving more than a minor flesh wound.

But Shirou was surging forward because he already knew what the dagger was supposed to accomplish — not from his memories of the first time through, but from the information now flooding through his brain: Rule Breaker, its history, its making, the concept of its creation, _its power_.

Nullification of all magic and contracts.

"You're mine now, Saber," Caster said sinisterly.

Red light poured from the tiny stab wound, so bright and blinding that Shirou had to stumble back through the living room door and throw his arms up to protect his eyes. Magical energy rushed forth like a waterfall, and every contract, every magic binding Saber was mercilessly and simultaneously cancelled. The Command Seals on Shirou's hand burned, then vanished.

They were on Caster's hand now.

Saber fell to the floor, panting as though she had run a mile and soaked with sweat.

"And now, everything comes together," Caster tittered again. "Oh — I have no more need of her, so you can have her back."

She tossed Fuji-nee aside like a ragdoll and pulled Ilya closer to herself. Saber now stood in between Shirou and beating Caster.

Which meant that he needed to find something that could beat them both.

The image appeared in his mind and the hammer in his head cocked back, then fired.

_Trace, on._

Judge the concept of creation.

Visualize the basic structure.

"But now that I think about it," she purred, "I no longer have any need of you two, either. Saber, kill them."

Saber slowly pulled herself to her feet, but made no move to fulfill the order given to her. Of course she wouldn't. To force Saber to follow an order like that required more than just a simple verbal command.

Duplicate the component materials.

Match the original craftsmanship.

"Guh! Don't be…! Ridiculous!"

"Oh? So you're going to be stubborn about it, are you?" Caster chuckled. "Very well, then. Saber, by the power of this Command Spell, kill those two. Start with the girl. Or the boy, if he tries to interfere."

Sympathize with the experience of its growth.

Saber's arms shook, but she didn't move. Caster recoiled. "Saber's Magic Resistance is powerful enough to fight the Command Spell?"

Saber took one halting step forward. Caster's sudden fear disappeared and she laughed again. "Of course. Even Saber's Magic Resistance can only hold it off so long!"

Saber grunted. Despite her incredible Magic Resistance and her indomitable will power, her hands were shakily moving, one inch at a time, to follow the command she had been given.

"Sh-Shirou," she groaned, "r-run away!"

Shirou growled and stood his ground. "You think you've won?"

Reproduce the accumulated age.

Caster's laughter only got louder. "I have your Servant, boy, and an unlimited amount of magical energy! There's no way you could —"

Shirou smirked grimly. "Of course there is."

The image was still in his head, was actually still in front of him, too, so recreating it had been much easier than normal.

Excel every manufacturing process.

"You just gave it to me."

He threw Caliburn to the side and it clattered uselessly to the floor. In its place, his hands grasped the twisted form of Rule Breaker, perfectly and flawlessly reproduced, and he charged forward — not towards Medea, but towards Saber, whose face was twisted into an expression of dumbfounded surprise.

He'd told her, hadn't he? At the beginning of the War, he'd said that his specialty was Projection.

The plan was simple. Medea had used Rule Breaker, her Noble Phantasm, to take the contract that had bound Saber and Shirou together and make Saber her Servant. Shirou, using his Projected Rule Breaker, would stab Saber and take that contract back.

If he was lucky, then it would even fix the connection problem they had had from the beginning.

But Caster flinched before he'd finished taking his second step and lifted her free hand. "Tροψα!"

A flare of energy, and then, like that, Caster, Ilya, and Saber were all gone. Shirou charged through empty air and tumbled to the floor — the warm body he expected to be there when he stabbed forward was no longer there. There was no armored, blue-clad body to receive his attack. Saber was gone.

Saber was _gone_.

Shirou lied still as Rule Breaker dissipated into the air like so much dust in the wind. He lied still with his face pressed against the floor and his left arm pinned uncomfortably beneath his chest. He lied still with the edge of the dinner table poking painfully into his right thigh.

He wasn't injured in his fall. He hadn't been hurt when he hit the ground. Shirou was no more wounded physically than he had been the moment he entered the Emiya house.

The reason Shirou didn't move was because he understood what had just happened. He understood what had just occurred in his living room and where it left him. He understood what all of it meant — from Caster invading to Ilya being kidnapped to Saber being taken from him.

It meant that Shirou had just lost.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Merry Christmas, Happy New Year's, Happy Holidays in general. **

**Caster did a lot of purring in this chapter. Rest assured, I didn't turn her into a nekomimi at any point, so it was all about tone of voice and delivery. Heh. Caster had kittens when Shirou Traced Rule Breaker.**

**Geddit? "Delivery?" "Caster had kittens?" That was actually an accident, believe it or not.**

**Some of you have expressed dissatisfaction with Rider and her death. The thing you must remember, though, is that this Shirou is behaving and thinking more like Kerry or EMIYA than he did in canon, so Rider was simply an enemy to be beaten. If Sakura had come forward and said that she was Rider's true Master, things might've been a whole lot different, but she had no reason to, so she didn't.**

_**My whole life was…**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	10. To the Center of the Sun

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter X: To the Center of the Sun  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

It was dark outside, but that didn't stop Shirou from standing out in the yard in the biting cold as he prepared himself for what he was about to do. He heard the front door open and close, but didn't pay it any mind.

"Fujimura-sensei isn't hurt," Rin reported calmly. "I've put her into an enchanted sleep. She should wake up some time tomorrow morning without any idea what's happened."

"Thank you, Tousaka," Shirou said politely. He lifted Caliburn up and checked it for nicks and scratches, then sheathed it in his belt rather than the patch of blue fabric Rin had prepared for him. "I'm grateful."

It was good to hear that Fuji-nee hadn't been injured during the entire fiasco, but it wasn't in Caster's nature to do something unnecessary. To be more exact, there wasn't a point to injuring Fuji-nee if all she needed was a hostage, so Caster wouldn't have actually hurt her.

Caster could be vengeful and cruel when it suited her, but she had no reason to hold a grudge against anyone in the Emiya house.

"The Bounded Field has been repaired to the best of my ability, and I've upgraded it as much as I can in such a short time, but I'm afraid it really isn't something I'm especially good at," she went on. "Still, it should hold well enough against the average Magus, so as long as Caster doesn't come tearing through here again, it'll be fine."

It was good news, but unnecessary. Shirou had gone ten years mostly undisturbed, and the only ones who had assaulted the house after he'd become a Master were Caster and Kotomine.

"Thank you, Tousaka," Shirou repeated. Even if it was unnecessary, he was thankful for her assistance. "I really appreciate your help."

Rin said nothing for a moment, but he could feel her eyes on him as he adjusted his bow — Archer's bow, freshly Projected and ready for use. At his feet, there was a set of sword-arrows — Durandal, Gram, and Rule Breaker — all streamlined into projectiles. They would last about two hours, he estimated, more than enough time to get up to the Temple.

"You're going to go after her, aren't you?" she asked quietly.

Shirou paused. "…Yes."

"You know it's hopeless, right? Now that Caster knows you can Project her Noble Phantasm, she's going to make sure to finish you off at long range so that you can't use it."

"I know."

"It's going to be extremely well defended, and you'll have to get past Assassin first, too. The odds of you succeeding and getting Saber back are slim to none."

"I know."

"Even if, by some miracle, you make it past Assassin and onto her territory, she can easily either teleport you out or turn you into a fine red paste on the ground."

"I know."

"And if you manage to make it to Caster, dodging Assassin, her spells, and whatever familiars or creatures she's bound to her will, then you'll have to worry about Kuzuki and whatever he's got up _his_ sleeve."

"I know."

She sighed, but it wasn't her usual exasperated sigh, it was her put-upon dramatic sigh, the one she used to tell him how much trouble he was causing her without actually using the words. "Well, hell, if you know all that, then you know damn well that I can't let you go and do this alone, right?"

Shirou paused again and looked over at her. There was a warmth in his chest that he thought could only be the thing called 'friendship.' "Tousaka —"

"I don't want to hear it!" Rin said firmly. "I don't care what you say, I'm coming with you, alright? This isn't just about you and Saber, this is about Caster getting away with hurting the people in _my_ town! I refuse to just sit here and let her trample all over my pride!"

Shirou blinked owlishly. "Tousaka —"

The smell of wet dog suddenly assaulted his nostrils.

"Oho," a chillingly familiar voice laughed. Shirou's heart skipped a beat fearfully. "You guys are cute, you know that? You actually think you can face Caster and Assassin all by yourselves."

They spun around, and there, poised upon the top of the compound wall, was Lancer, one leg hanging leisurely and the other propping up his left arm. Gáe Bolg was leaning casually against his right shoulder.

He grinned at them with gleaming red eyes. "You do realize just how ridiculous that sounds, don't you?"

"L-Lancer!" Rin gasped.

"Yo!" Lancer gave a jaunty wave. "Good to see that the two of you have actually managed to stay alive this long!"

Shirou was standing defensively in front of Rin almost before he realized that he'd moved, Caliburn held threateningly with both hands. Lancer targeting them at such an inopportune time — he really did have the rottenest luck.

"Shirou, what are you doing?" Rin hissed. "There's no way you can beat him! He'll mop the floor with you! Get out of the way so I can cast a spell —"

"He's a Servant, Tousaka!" Shirou hissed back. "Before you could even think of saying the incantation, he'll have killed you six different ways!"

Lance chuckled. "Yanno, your confidence in my skills is flattering and all, but I'm not here to fight."

Shirou stopped and whatever harsh reprimand had been about to leave Rin's mouth froze in place. "You're not?"

"Well, seeing you guys get all worked up was fun and all, but that's not what I'm here for," Lancer grinned. "I just couldn't help myself — you two standing here talking about fighting Caster as though it's something you can actually do."

Shirou scowled. "If all you came here to do was tell us how impossible it is, then thanks, but no thanks. I'm not gonna back down from this."

He couldn't. He had worked too hard to save everyone to give up and be defeated just yet. Above all else, he had to rescue Saber.

"Bravo," Lancer said, but it sounded only half-praising. "You've got guts, kid, but guts aren't gonna be much use against someone like Caster and whatever pets she has guarding her. You need a Servant. So what I'm saying is that I'll lend you two a hand."

Shirou felt more than saw Rin relax behind him. "You're gonna help us, huh? So tell me, Lancer, is this your idea or is it someone else's?"

Lancer's grin only got wider.

"Wish I could say it was mine, but it's not," he admitted. "See, my cowardly Master decided he didn't want Caster to get away with what she's trying to do, so he said to team up until we can get rid of her. It's just an alliance of convenience, that's all."

Translated, Kotomine didn't want Caster making her own Grail, so he had sent Cúchulainn out to help them stop her rather than reveal his hand. Of course. It was still too early for Gilgamesh to show his face, after all.

"So in other words," Rin said slowly, "once Caster's dead, all bets are off?"

Lancer shrugged. "Well, now, that depends."

"On what?" Shirou demanded.

"Which one of you has a Servant at the end of this whole fiasco," was the answer Lancer gave. "After all, there's no point in fighting a Magus who's been disqualified. That's just distasteful."

"I see," Rin said coolly. "Well, then, I suppose that's reasonable. So you're really going to help us, Lancer? No strings attached?"

"Not a one," Lancer promised. "So, whaddya say? Feel like teaming up?"

Rin was quiet for a moment. "It's Shirou's decision," she declared solemnly. "He's the one leading this campaign. He's the one with the most at stake. Shirou?"

Shirou didn't say anything either. He tried to think of reasons to say no, reasons why he shouldn't trust Lancer, who worked for Kotomine, but every time he did, the same image popped up in his head — Lancer standing in front of Gilgamesh to buy time for Shirou and Saber to escape the church.

He wished he could say that he hated Lancer. He wished that he could say he held a grudge for the spear that had nearly taken his life three times. He wished that he could honestly believe he would make it against Caster without Lancer's help, but every time he tried to convince himself, Caster's visage, with her hand aglow, appeared in his mind.

There wasn't much choice.

"On one condition," Shirou said finally. He gave Lancer his hardest glare. "When this is over and I have Saber back, we wait until both you and her are in better condition before fighting."

Lancer just laughed. "Now, see, kid," he said, "I knew there was a reason I liked you!"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"Alright, then," Rin stopped at the foot of the mountain, and stretching up, up, up were the steps that led to the Temple. The clock had not yet struck midnight. "You know what you've got to do, right, Lancer?"

"Yeah, yeah," Lancer shooed her with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Yeh've told me already exactly what you need me to do. I'll keep Caster busy while you two take care of her Master and rescue your friend. Worst case scenario, I'll hold off Saber and you guys take down Caster and her Master. Don't worry, I'm not gonna forget if you don't say it another time."

He frowned and adjusted his grip on his spear. "You guys sure you can handle them on your own?"

"It's fine," Shirou said confidently. No, he wasn't really sure, but he'd faced Kuzuki before and was fairly sure he knew his style well enough to compensate for the difference in skill. As for Rin…

"If it comes down to it and I have to fight Caster, then I'm sure I can outwit her one-on-one," Rin declared without a trace of doubt.

Shirou didn't really understand what "outwitting Caster" meant, but one of the first things he had learned back in his first run through the Grail War was to trust that Rin knew what she was talking about. It was only natural, after all. She was a highly trained and skilled Magus, and he…Well, he was a mediocre specialist who was only good at one thing.

That was what the bow and arrows were for. If it came down to it and they had to fight Caster, then there were few better weapons than the arrow-shaped Noble Phantasms slipped into his belt.

The moon, nearly halfway to full, glared down at them as they marched up the steps. They made the climb in silence, trudging upwards and strung on a hair trigger. Lancer seemed to have no trouble, but halfway up the mountainside, Shirou's legs were beginning to hurt and Rin looked little better.

"Damn these stupid steps," she groused. "Why did the Temple have to be on top of a mountain?"

They reached the top without another word, but something was wrong. Shirou stopped, but not because he was forced to; Shirou stopped because no figure in purple appeared in front them, demanding a battle. He stopped because Assassin did not fade into reality as they approached the gate, longsword unsheathed and a challenge on his lips.

And so, with an uneasy feeling in his belly, Shirou stopped.

Lancer and Rin went another two steps before they stopped, too.

"Shirou?" Rin asked. "Is something wrong?"

"What's the matter, kid?" Lancer teased. "Scared?"

Shirou said nothing for a moment, half expecting Assassin to pop up suddenly as though he'd been there all along. Nothing happened.

"There's something strange going on, here," he began.

"Strange?" Rin folded her arms and gave him an amused look. "Shirou, you're fighting in a War between Magi who have heroes from legend as their allies. There's nothing normal about this."

"She's got a point," Lancer said sensibly.

Shirou scowled at them.

"Look, Saber said that there was a bounded field around this mountain, right?" he asked rhetorically. Rin nodded. "She said that the only way to get inside the temple without having her abilities weakened was to go in through the front gate — this gate — right?"

Again, Rin nodded.

"We also know that Caster used a loophole to summon Assassin," he went on. "The only way for a Servant to get in without being affected by the barrier is through this gate — so if Caster has Assassin, then why wouldn't she set him up to guard the gate from enemy Servants?"

Realization was dawning on Rin's face.

"She wouldn't," Rin said. "The only smart choice would be to set her Servant up at the gate to ambush any enemy Servant that tried to come after her. But Lancer's about to walk through the gate with an enemy she knows better than to underestimate, and Assassin is nowhere to be found. So that means —"

"Something's wrong, here," Lancer concluded grimly. "You think someone else got to him first?"

Rin shook her head. "Berserker, Archer, and Rider have all been defeated. Saber is the one we're going to rescue, you're right here, Lancer, and Caster is the one holding Saber. If Assassin isn't here, it could only mean that someone else got here first and finished him off, or Caster decided that Assassin was a waste of resources and killed him because she no longer needed him."

"Damn," Lancer huffed. "So, what does this mean for us?"

Rin shrugged.

"_For now_," she stressed, "it makes our job easier. But it could mean a whole lot of trouble later on."

Shirou hoped that it was the latter, that Caster had simply gotten rid of Assassin because she no longer had a use for him…

But he couldn't help the feeling in his gut that said something far more sinister was afoot.

Without another word, he started up again and strode straight passed Rin and through the front gate. Rin and Lancer both fell into step behind him, and just to make sure, Shirou pulled Caliburn out as they crossed the threshold.

What awaited them on the other side, standing at the opposite end of the courtyard —

"I figured you'd come here. There was no way Emiya Shirou could resist something like this."

— was a knight dressed in red. Smoke and steel assaulted Shirou's nose.

"Yo, Rin," Archer gave a lazy wave. "I thought you might show up, too. I hope this idiot hasn't dragged you up here without a plan."

"Archer…"

She sounded sad and relieved all at once, but beyond that one word and the wistful expression on her face that spoke volumes, she said nothing else.

Lancer stepped forward, Gáe Bolg gripped casually in his right hand.

"Well, it's not exactly the way we planned it," Lancer grinned, "but I suppose this is just one of life's many curveballs, eh, Archer? Funny thing, though —"

He suddenly dropped into a fighting stance, and the grin on his face was positively bloodthirsty.

"— I could've sworn I heard you were dead!"

Archer chuckled.

"Well, you know what they say," he drawled dryly, "reports of my death were greatly exaggerated."

"Archer," Rin's quiet voice cut through the battlefield, "that night, when our contract broke, was it because you had Caster use her Noble Phantasm on you?"

Shirou felt his heart skip a beat. Like that, all of the pieces were starting to fit together — Caster's comment just a few short hours ago, Archer's promise that night, and then the severing of his contract with Rin (because, apparently, the contract didn't end when the Command Seals were all used up).

So, once the Command Seals were all used up, Archer abandoned Rin so…so…

So…what?

Why did Archer abandon Rin once her Command Seals —

"_You're living on borrowed time…"_

So…Archer abandoned Rin…so that she couldn't stop him from killing Shirou. Was that it?

But…why…?

Archer blinked and smirked. "You really are a genius, Rin. Since it seems like you understand the situation, I guess I don't need to explain it to you, do I?"

"I see," the smile that pulled at her lips was hollow. "That's all I wanted to know. Lancer, I know it wasn't part of the original plan, but I'm trusting you to handle Archer."

"Don't worry," Lancer looked back at her, "I'll beat this guy up, then drag him back to you and make him beg for your forgiveness."

"Thank you, Lancer," Rin nudged her head towards the back of the temple. "Let's go, Shirou."

Shirou took one last look at Lancer and Archer, who were staring at each other as though waiting for someone to make the first move, then turned away and took off after Rin, towards the back of the temple.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

With a clang, their weapons clashed — twin swords and lance.

Each attack was intended to kill. Each blow was aimed for a vital spot that would end the opponent's life — neck, groin, heart, stomach, eyes, femoral artery.

Archer grunted. The attacks were far faster and far fiercer than that first night when they had fought. The Lancer that stood before him now was an entirely different type of beast than the Lancer that had attacked him then. It was like they were two totally different Servants.

Thrust and parry — Archer deflected the lance again. Kanshou and Bakuya groaned under the onslaught.

"What's the matter, Archer?" Lance crowed. "You're a lot slower than I remember!"

Again, and again, and again, Archer deflected the lance, but Lancer didn't let up, didn't give him the chance to escape or counterattack. Any opening Archer gave was expertly defended, but whatever holes might have existed in Lancer's attacks were closed too quickly to capitalize on.

"Really?" Archer grunted. "Maybe it's just that you're a lot faster!"

The battle continued in earnest. If Archer hadn't been Archer, he would've lost already. No, it was only Archer's supreme skill and the dangerous style of swordsmanship he used that allowed him to stay alive — false openings to lure the opponent in, false openings so that Archer was able to predict where he would be attacked from.

It was a style designed to let an inferior being fight a superior one.

That was why Archer was able to stand almost evenly with Lancer. Even though Lancer was faster and stronger, Archer could predict where Lancer would strike before the strike was even completed and defend against it even as his opponent moved to pierce it.

It was a crazy style. It was an insane way to fight. But it allowed Archer to compensate for the difference in their abilities. The vast gulf that separated Lancer from Archer was closed simply by Archer's style of fighting and his ability to predict the outcome.

The lance came, harder than before. The swords came, harder than before. They met in the middle, and neither Servant was harmed. Lancer leapt back — fifteen feet.

Lancer could cross the distance in an instant.

"…I don't get it," he said. "Even without her Command Seals, you and that girl could've taken Caster head on and won. With Berserker gone, me and Saber would've been the only ones left to fight. So, Archer…why did you go and switch sides like that?"

Archer smiled.

"Why concern yourself with such things, Lancer?" he asked. "If you really need to know, it's because this path I'm on now is the path with the highest probability of success. It's only natural that I would choose the road that led to my goal, isn't it?"

Lancer huffed. "Guess it was a stupid question, huh?"

Archer chuckled.

"You're the one who said it, not me."

Lancer snorted.

"You're good. You're definitely a fighter worthy of being called a 'hero,' but," the red lance rose, "your swords — they have no pride!"

And still, Archer smiled, "I have no need of pride, Lancer. It's a useless thing. All that matters are the results of my actions. Pride? I feed pride to the starving mutts."

Lancer scowled. The lines of his face became harsh and grotesque. The air in the courtyard froze.

"Pride is for the dogs," Lancer spat. "Is that what you're saying?"

"Exactly that, Cúchulainn. If your meaningless pride is weighing you down, then you'd best divest yourself of it immediately."

"…Well said."

Lancer leapt back again, farther than before. The distance between them changed from fifteen feet to three hundred. He landed in a crouch, hunched over like a sprinter about to dash.

Across from him, Archer dropped his swords, which faded away into the wind.

"If that's the way you feel," Lancer said in a growl, "then you can go ahead and die, Archer!"

Then, he took off. His legs carried him across the distance — a hundred and fifty feet disappeared in an instant, and Lancer threw himself up into the air. The height of his jump was impossible for any human being, an impossible jump that took him high over the temple. Like that, Lancer lifted his spear and cocked back his arm.

This wasn't the spear that twisted reality and pierced the heart.

"GÁE!"

The arm jerked forward and sent the spear flying down towards Archer.

"BOLG!"

This was the spear that slew armies.

The spear split and rained down as lances of light. Archer closed his eyes as though he were accepting his death, accepting that his path had been cut off. He reached inside of himself, into the bubble that was his inner self, his distorted perception.

"_I am the bone of my sword."_

The steel gray eyes snapped open. One arm lifted as though to intercept the spear.

"Rho Aias!"

A barrier appeared in front of Archer and blocked the rain of light.

No, it wasn't a barrier. It was a fortress wall, seven layers strong. It was Rho Aias, a barrier that blocked projectiles. In legend, it had been a shield with seven layers of ox hide that blocked the spear of Hector of Troy. What Archer employed now was not that shield, but the concept that embodied that legend — an impenetrable defense that blocked projectiles.

It was a barrier with seven petals, each of which embodied a layer of the shield and each as strong as a fortress wall. No spear had ever pierced it, and if such a spear existed, then Archer didn't know of it.

Except that the rain of light pierced the first layer. One petal vanished. It pierced the second layer. A second petal vanished. It pierced the third, the fourth, the fifth, and the sixth. Four more petals vanished. At the last petal, the last defense standing between Archer and certain death, the rain of light stopped, held for a moment…

Then, both the barrier and the many pronged lance vanished.

Lancer landed on the ground deftly. If looks could kill, then his glare would have set Archer ablaze on the spot.

It might have been a mercy, actually. Wounds covered Archer's body. His raised arm was hanging on by the bone and a trace of sinew and nothing else. His face was marred by a tight, agonized grimace.

"I'm surprised," he admitted evenly. "I didn't think there existed such a weapon as could pierce the Aias. Your lance is even stronger than its precursor. And your legend is well deserved, Hound of Culann."

Archer reached into his clothes with a wince and pulled out a bottle containing a shimmering gold liquid with his good arm.

"How fortunate for me," he remarked wryly as he popped the lid off the bottle, "that Caster decided to be generous tonight."

He tilted the bottle up and downed its contents in one gulp. Instantly, the wounds on his body sizzled and vanished, and like that, Archer was restored to full health.

Still, Lancer said nothing.

"I suppose she got nervous when she returned to find Assassin gone," Archer explained with a shrug of his shoulders. "It's only natural that she would rather not lose her last line of defense while she was still in the process of breaking Saber down."

"…Just who are you, anyway?" Lancer demanded.

Archer chuckled. "Just an Archer, that's all I am. I thought that was rather obvious, Lancer."

"Bullshit!" Lancer barked. "Twin swords, a shield Noble Phantasm that can block my Gáe Bolg — those sorts of things don't belong to an Archer!"

"Nonetheless, an Archer is what I am, and you broke through my greatest protection, Lancer. But more importantly — have you noticed? Caster is no longer observing us. So…"

Archer smiled and raised his hands in surrender.

"…You bastard," Lancer growled. "So this was your plan all along, was it?"

Archer chuckled. "I told you, Lancer. The path I'm on is the path with the greatest probability of success."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"We don't have very much time," Rin explained as they ran. "We'll have to beat Caster before their fight is finished."

"Are you sure you can beat Caster?" Shirou asked. It was a question Lancer had asked before, but it bore repeating. Outwitting Caster was one thing, but actually beating her was something that Shirou wasn't sure Rin, as a human being, was capable of. "I don't mean to insult your abilities or anything, but you keep telling me that a human can't hope to match a Servant."

"Ignoring the fact that you've somehow managed to do that anyway, yes, I can beat Caster," Rin answered. "I'm sure that I'll be backed into a corner eventually, but you can't help me, understand? Before, it was just a matter of getting Saber with Rule Breaker because I thought we'd have Lancer to keep at least Caster busy, but since Lancer is fighting Archer, we're going to have to take care of Caster and Kuzuki-sensei _before_ rescuing Saber, alright?"

Shirou frowned. "Alright, then."

He slipped Caliburn back into his belt and pulled out the bow slung across his back and one of the three arrows he'd tucked away earlier — Durandal. He placed it on his bow as he followed after Rin; when the time came, he could raise the bow to aim and pull back the bowstring at the same time.

They reached the back of the temple in silence. Ilya was nowhere to be seen, but Saber was dressed in a white gown (it looked like a western wedding dress) and suspended by her wrists with some sort of magic. She was panting and dripping in sweat, as though she had just been freed from some great torture. Caster stood in front of her, smiling at them, and Kuzuki Souichirou stood next to Caster solemnly.

"Welcome," Caster said silkily. "You're here quite a bit sooner than I expected, but it's no matter."

Rin stepped forward, radiating a confidence that Shirou was sure she didn't actually feel.

"I'm here, Caster," she said as she stalked closer. "I've given it a lot of thought, and I've decided that I can't afford to let you stick around any longer. You're annoying, you're ugly, you're always getting in my way, and I'm going to do something about it."

"There were so many chances I had to kill the both of you, and yet I didn't," Caster retorted. "And here you are. You've repaid my mercy with such recklessness. No wonder Archer decided to leave you, girl."

Rin winced a little, but walked out towards the right and Shirou towards the left, though Shirou put more room between himself and Kuzuki than Rin did between herself and Caster. Even though Rin's plan involved Shirou distracting Kuzuki while she attacked Caster, Shirou figured that he'd try his own plan, first.

Kuzuki watched Shirou silently with his cold black eyes. There was no way he hadn't realized their plan, Shirou knew. Even on the odd chance that Caster was unaware of what they were doing, there was no way Kuzuki was so oblivious.

Then, Rin met Shirou's eyes and gave a tiny nod. Apparently, he was in the right position, because after that, she turned her attention away from him completely.

"Well then," Rin said. "Let's get started. I know this is only the first time I've actually fought you, Caster, but I've already grown sick and tired of that ugly face of yours."

Caster laughed an empty, mocking laugh. "Oh my, well aren't you confident? Please don't tell me you actually think you can beat me, little girl."

"It's not about thinking," Rin said aloofly. "It's simply a fact. I can beat you, Caster. There's no way a first class Magus like me could lose to a third-rate Magus like you. It's no more complicated than that."

Shirou could practically hear Caster's teeth grinding.

"Very well," she said with a forced calm. "It seems that I'll have to teach you how to respect your betters, girl."

In the same instant, they both prepared their magic. Shirou took that as his opportunity and lifted his bow, aimed swiftly, and let Durandal fly. The sword-arrow soared towards Caster's back, and it looked for a moment as though it would strike — then, with a flick of her wrist, a barrier erected itself to protect her.

It wasn't enough to stop Durandal — the barrier screeched and whined, then shattered, but it was still enough to alter the trajectory. Instead of striking Caster, Durandal went wide and into the forest in the distance.

Durandal wasn't enough, then. He had to use something stronger.

Gram was pulled out and strung a second later, but Kuzuki was already moving. When the arrow left his bow, Kuzuki was there to intercept it and knocked the sword aside with his bare fist using a precision blow against the shaft.

And that was exactly what Shirou had intended in the first place.

Kuzuki was out of the way as Shirou strung up his final arrow and aimed — not for Caster, but for Saber, who had been left wide open when Kuzuki moved while Caster fought Rin. Rule Breaker, modified into a straight and narrow arrow with Reinforcement, flew through the air with a faint whistling sound.

Except it was stopped. Shirou wasn't sure what stopped it — couldn't see whatever-it-was in the dark — but it repelled Rule Breaker with a metallic clang, and instead of hitting Saber and freeing her from Caster's stolen contract, it was deflected into the lake.

And that was as far as Shirou could go.

There were no more arrows to fire, and Kuzuki was already rushing towards him, closing the distance. Shirou just barely had enough time to drop his bow, which faded into motes of light like fireflies, and draw Caliburn, and then Kuzuki was attacking him.

The fists came at him quickly, hooking around whatever blocks he managed to cobble together like snakes and striking him like a viper. It was like the fists lashing out at him really were snakes, and each attack was a bite that succeeded. Whether the bites were venomous depended entirely upon whether or not Shirou could put up a good enough block.

In other words, if Shirou put up a good enough block, then the "bite" was nonvenomous. Either way, it hurt, but the damage was superficial and temporary. It was the venomous "bites," the ones that resulted from a poor block, that did damage, dislocating shoulders, breaking bones, bruising organs — and those hurt worse.

Luck, however, seemed to be on Shirou's side — or maybe it was the skill of the previous wielder that the blade in his hands was imparting unto him, he didn't know — because most of the "bites" that got him were the "nonvenomous" kind. They hurt — hurt bad — but faded and numbed only moments afterwards. It was like something was healing him as soon as he —

Avalon.

The realization distracted him enough for Kuzuki to land the first solid hit — the rest had been mostly glancing — and Shirou paid for it with what felt like a broken clavicle. For an instant, his right arm was numb and his entire shoulder was in agony.

Then, like ice in the desert, it melted away. With a sick crack, the clavicle that had been broken snapped back into its proper place. Again, the only answer to his miraculous ability to heal was Avalon.

But with each injury that was healed, Saber, down by the lake, grunted and shook.

The only conclusion Shirou could come to was that her energy was being drained to power Avalon's healing, but how that could happen without a proper contract between them…

No, it didn't matter. It just meant that he couldn't afford to get hit anymore. He would gladly suffer pain if it meant saving Saber, but if his pain hurt Saber, then it would be selfish of him to suffer that pain in order to save her. The only option available, then, would be to make sure that he didn't get injured again.

"Trace…_on_."

Caliburn by itself was too limited — a powerful sword, but not variable enough to make it past Kuzuki's insane defense — so he switched his grip to one hand and Durandal appeared in the other.

Like that, he struck back, but it didn't seem to have made any difference. Even with a second sword swinging at him, Kuzuki evaded every single one of Shirou's attacks.

Shirou, who had been strong enough to block one of Heracles' attacks. Where was that strength now, he wondered.

Every swing made with Caliburn or Durandal was deflected, and in rare moments, Kuzuki even blocked by trapping the blade between his elbow and knee. Watching him was incredible, and also frustrating. No matter what he did, he couldn't seem to pin Kuzuki down.

…Pin him down.

Yes, if he couldn't win conventionally, then he would have to win unconventionally. Shirou would freely admit that he hated Gilgamesh, that he hated the way Gilgamesh fought, and that he hated just about everything a person possibly could hate about any single other person, but if there was one thing that he could definitely say about Gilgamesh's style, it was effective.

It wasn't particularly clever nor particularly inspired, but raining an endless torrent of weapons down onto your enemy could defeat most Servants if you worked at it long enough.

So, in principle, it should work on Kuzuki, too, shouldn't it?

"Trace…_on_."

Behind him, no less than a dozen copies of the sword in his left hand, Durandal, appeared, hovering in the air. Looking at them, you wouldn't know it, but they were all flawed. Shirou hadn't bothered perfecting them. He'd gone for speed rather than efficiency, so the image he'd forced into the world was incomplete.

He swung out with the Durandal in his hand. The copies hovering behind him followed the motion and shot forward at Kuzuki, who twisted to and fro and took several glancing blows, but managed to avoid the worst of it.

No, that was wrong. Durandal was called the Peerless Sword, and even though there were swords of greater power, it had earned that name for a reason. It was sharp, sharper than sharp, and it could never dull. Even a glancing blow from such a sharp blade was a serious injury, one that could prove debilitating or even fatal if not treated fast enough.

Kuzuki had suffered from no less than six. He'd been good enough to dodge or deflect the rest, but the glancing blows from the six swords that had hit him were still dangerous. They weren't especially deep, but they bled a lot, and would normally require extensive stitches, and if Kuzuki wasn't careful, he'd die of exsanguination.

…That was fine.

Kuzuki was a murderer, had admitted to as much before. He was perfectly willing to let Caster suck the life, the entire life instead of just bits, out of the townspeople. He didn't care how many she killed. He was a remorseless killer. In the end, the only option was to end him — now that they were enemies, now that they knew the face across from each other as "foe," they could no longer go back to being student and teacher.

Even if Kuzuki would have gone back to a normal life after the Grail War ended, that was no longer an option. It was no longer an option because Emiya Shirou knew that Kuzuki was a villain capable of murder.

Yes. It was akin to a rabid mutt. When a dog bit people, when it killed people, for no other reason than because it could, with no ounce of remorse in its heart, you put it down — and so, like a rabid dog, Kuzuki would be put down, and Shirou would be the one to do it.

Some people, you couldn't save.

Just as both Shirou and Kuzuki were about to move, however, a sickening, meaty crack and Caster's half-strangled scream cut across the grass. Both of them turned to look at the same time, and there, with her fist buried in the middle of Caster's robes, was Rin, grinning victoriously.

"You're a Magus," Caster grunted, and in the sudden silence, she may as well have shouted, "and you're fighting with your bare hands!?"

"Sorry," Rin said remorselessly, "but it's a dangerous world nowadays! Self-defense is required for the magi of today!"

Rin pulled her hand back, and then, with a speed he didn't know she possessed, she dropped to the ground and swept Caster's legs out from under her. Caster, who obviously had no experience with close quarters combat, fell helplessly onto her back. She could not stop Rin — she seemed stunned into inaction as Rin twisted around and threw herself onto Caster's body elbow-first.

There was another crack. A tortured groan tore itself from Caster's lips. Rin didn't stop. She got to her knees swiftly and lifted her hand to deliver the final blow.

But Kuzuki was already there — no, Shirou hadn't even seen him move — and his hand was wrapped around Rin's wrist.

"That's far enough, Tousaka," Kuzuki intoned calmly. "You lost your chance. Your inexperience shows in your inability to defeat your opponent after four strikes."

He twisted her arm around, then flung her back without letting go and thrust his other fist towards her face as he released her. Rin was only fast enough to block with her other arm, which let out a sickening crack as she was thrown backwards bodily. She landed in the grass with a muffled thump.

"Tousaka!" Shirou's teeth ground together. He wanted to go to her, make sure she was all right, but he knew that it would leave him open and vulnerable, and that would mean that they would both die. He needed to beat Caster and Kuzuki first.

He needed to beat Caster and Kuzuki first.

"Thank you, Souichirou-sama," Caster said graciously as Kuzuki helped her to her feet. She stumbled a little and grasped at her chest, panting. "I-I apologize, Master, but it seems I need a moment to regain my strength. We can — we can remove these nuisances after that."

Durandal hadn't been enough. Wounds like that, Caster could easily heal. If he wanted to overwhelm them the way Gilgamesh usually did, then he needed variety. He couldn't reproduce just a _single_ weapon from Gilgamesh's treasury…

He had to recreate _all_ of them.

_Harpe._

_Gungnir._

_Dainsleif._

_Caladbolg._

_Gram._

_Houtengeki._

_Durandal._

Every weapon he had ever laid eyes on in the Gate of Babylon rose up into his mind and he grasped the images tightly. They wouldn't be perfect, but they'd be good enough. As long as they did the job, then it didn't matter if they were all flawlessly recreated. As long as they did their job, then they could be fatally flawed, for all that it mattered.

Prana hummed through Shirou's Circuits. The images were good enough and clear enough to serve his purposes.

"Trace…_On._"

But someone said it before him.

Caster moved first. That was only natural. Kuzuki wasn't a Magus, so he couldn't feel the magical energy that gathered in the air, couldn't smell the smoke and steel that struck Shirou's nostrils violently and unforgivingly. Because he wasn't a Magus, Kuzuki couldn't prepare himself for the sudden torrent of silver swords that rained down from the sky like arrows as Caster threw her body in front of his.

It all happened in the span of an instant. As soon as they started, the falling swords stopped. Those that had already struck disappeared like a ghost. All that was left were red bloodstains on the ground — the only sign that anything had happened at all.

There was a long moment of silence. Rin was staring at it all as though she couldn't believe her eyes. Caster was panting and heaving as though she was on her last legs, and great splotches of crimson soaked her robes through. She took long, halting steps to her silent Master; the cowl that had hidden her face had been shredded and fell limply behind her head.

"Souichirou-sama," she gasped as finally reached Kuzuki. One hand rose shakily to run her slender fingers over his cheek. "Are you unhurt?"

"Yes," Kuzuki answered solemnly.

"Good," Caster sighed. "I would be very sad…if you died."

She gave another sigh. "How cruel," she whispered, but her voice carried as though she had shouted, "I finally had my wish…"

Then, with that final wistful declaration, Caster, like Berserker before her, faded into the still wind.

Several things happened in Shirou's head — not the least of which was the cataclysmic realization of the fact that Archer's Aria was the same as his own — but they were all drowned out by Archer's footfalls, which were like thunderclaps as he strode casually towards Kuzuki.

No, it wasn't that Archer's footsteps were actually that loud, but that every fiber in Shirou's body was attuned to what was happening in front of him. Suddenly, it was like all the pieces of a puzzle that he had casually been trying to finish were laid out before him, but the final image depicted was utterly inconceivable.

— _I hAvE crEAtEd oVEr a THOUsanD BlADeS —_

— _UNawaRe of LOSS —_

— _Nor AWarE Of GAIN —_

"Archer…" Rin whispered.

Archer said nothing. His eyes were watching Kuzuki unblinkingly, as though either one might attack the other at any moment.

"So then," Kuzuki rumbled in his usual tone; a trail of blood rolled out the corner of his mouth and streamed down his chin, "this was your plan from the beginning, was it, Archer?"

"There's no point in lying to you now," Archer agreed. "Caster provided me with something I wanted, but in the end, she was always an enemy."

"I see…"

As though it had been waiting for that moment, a red stain appeared on Kuzuki's clothing — it appeared merely a darker shade of black on the already black suit — and grew larger quickly. At its center was a hole, a puncture near the bottom of what would be his ribcage.

Even though Caster had shielded him with her body, Kuzuki Souichirou had been dealt a fatal wound.

Then, like a puppet that had its strings cut, Kuzuki collapsed forward into the ground.

At the same time, over near the lake's edge, Saber's body fell to the ground as well.

"Saber!"

The moment she had crumbled, Shirou slung Caliburn into his belt and rushed to her side. He picked her up and held her in his arms, felt her body, flushed and hot, like before, and realized immediately what he had forgotten about since he started fighting Kuzuki.

When Caster died, the contract that tied Saber to her would be nulled. By the same token, the very thing that tied Saber to the world of the present would be nulled. Without a Master to support her, even if it was only to provide an anchor to the modern world, she couldn't maintain her body, and she would inevitably fade.

So then, what Shirou should have done was stab Saber with Rule Breaker before Caster faded away.

And yet, all of those concerns vanished for a moment when Saber opened her brilliant green eyes, looked up into his, and smiled. There was a warmth blossoming in his chest that was associated exclusively with that smile.

"Shirou…"

A second later, those eyes sharpened, and Shirou was pushed out of the way as Saber flung herself in the opposite direction, flying backwards a few meters and filled with confusion — a dozen swords flew through the space his head had occupied just moments before, and Shirou suddenly understood what she had done.

She'd just saved his life.

"Damn," Archer's voice drawled. "I missed."

Saber was on her feet again in a second, fully dressed in her armor, but even that seemed to be a chore, because her breath came out in exhausted pants, as though she were just barely keeping herself upright. Rin, still on the ground, looked positively stunned.

"Archer," Saber seethed, and despite her condition, she was fully prepared to fight Archer to defend Shirou.

…No, that wasn't right. Saber was in that condition, so she couldn't possibly fight, and if she couldn't fight, then it was only natural that Shirou, essentially unharmed and nearly fully charged, should fight in her place.

So, that's what he did. Shirou pulled himself to his feet, ignored the faint ache in his chest where Saber had pushed him without holding back, unsheathed Caliburn, and placed himself between Archer and Saber.

"Shirou!" Saber groaned, but not at his actions. She groaned from the very act of keeping herself standing. "Sh-Shirou, this is not a battle you can fight! Y-you must retreat!"

Even nearly on the point of collapse, Saber put his life over hers. He loved her for it, but refused to let her die for his sake. Letting Saber die for him wasn't a result he could tolerate.

"…I don't know what you're talking about," Shirou told her in no uncertain terms. "Even if this is a battle I _can't_ fight…this is a battle I _have_ to fight."

"Shirou, you…"

"Archer!" Rin screeched. She had finally regained her wits and was standing, favoring her left arm. "What the hell do you think you're doing!? The fight's over! Caster's dead! You don't need to act like that anymore!"

"Acting?" Archer asked sardonically. "Whoever said this was an act, Rin?"

She blanched and growled at him. "I won't let you —!"

Archer laughed.

"Let me?" he parroted through a chuckle. "Have you forgotten so easily, Rin? As you are no longer my Master, I have no need to ask of your permission. Our contract has ended, so I'm free to do as I please."

"Archer, you…!"

"But now that I think about it," he interrupted, "it'd be troublesome to have you interfere, so…"

A rain of swords came down again, and Rin was suddenly trapped behind a cage of steel larger than any real sword had the right to be. She was trapped and helpless and unable to escape.

Even if she were so inclined, the effort that would be required of her to cast any spell capable of injuring Archer would be hindered by the miniscule gaps between the sharp blades that trapped her; they were big enough to fit her arm through, but just barely.

In other words, the only thing Tousaka Rin could do from that point forward was watch and scream.

"I refuse to let you interfere after I've come this far," Archer declared as he strode forward. "Our contract has ended, so that troublesome Command Seal you used on me shortly after my summoning is no longer in effect. That is why I went to Caster — to break that spell so that I could pursue my own interests…"

A wicked smile curved his lips. "And _kill_ Emiya Shirou."

"Archer, you…" Saber groaned again. "What reason have you for this madness? What drives you to this betrayal?"

Archer chuckled again, but this time it was the sardonic, chagrined, self-depreciating sort.

"It's quite simple," he said with something of a sad smile. "Saber, I should never have become a hero."

Behind him, Shirou felt more than saw Saber flinch. He wondered, for a brief moment, if she had reached the same inconceivable conclusion he had.

"That doesn't matter!" Shirou declared. "It has no bearing on this! Archer, I'm not going to lie down and die!"

A funny look came over Archer's face.

"You say that," he mused, "as if you had a _choice_. But there's something important you don't realize, Emiya Shirou —"

Archer was suddenly in front of him and swinging down a sword — Shirou had no time to recognize what sword it was, only time to lift his own sword, Caliburn, to block the silver blur coming down to kill him —

"— you left this lying around earlier."

The sword in Archer's hand cleaved through Caliburn effortlessly, straight through the blade, and carved a line down Shirou's chest. The force of the blow sent him flying backwards — Gram, Shirou realized, Archer was wielding Gram — and he landed in the grass just in front of the lake.

He had barely hit the ground before Avalon started to heal his wound — leaching his own Prana this time, mysteriously enough — and he could hear Rin's and Saber's voices calling his name, but only distantly.

"That sword was not a Noble Phantasm," Archer's words pounded into his brain like a hammer. "It was the original Caliburn, repaired and given to you for some reason or another. I can't say I understand it. How it was you earned the favor of those monstrosities boggles the mind, but it means that you haven't made a contract yet, so I can kill you without regret."

"Archer!"

Saber attacked Archer again, but the clang of their swords crossing sounded so distant and far off to Shirou. No, more than that, he was still reeling from what had just happened.

Archer had used Gram on him. Not even just any Gram, either, but the sword-arrow Shirou had Projected earlier and which had been deflected out of sight by Kuzuki. Caliburn had broken because it had faced its predecessor, and as he had learned from Gilgamesh, in a case of two swords bearing identical or near-identical concepts, the older one always won.

Caliburn had broken.

What was he to do, now? Archer was better than him. There was nothing Shirou could do that Archer couldn't already do. There was no sword that Shirou could Project that Archer couldn't Project better and faster. The best he could hope for was to deploy Avalon and wait it out, but the problem with that was that Saber would vanish in that time because Archer had Independent Action, and that let him stay in the world for two days without a Master.

No, more than just that, how the hell would he explain Avalon to Rin and Saber?

Saber's voice cried out. Shirou snapped out of his thoughts.

"…stay down, King of Knights," Archer said. "If you continue trying to fight in that condition, you will only cause yourself to fade away. You have no Master to provide you energy or stability."

"I…" Saber growled breathlessly. "I…won't let you…!"

No, she wouldn't, Shirou thought with a strangled fondness. That was right. And as long as Saber could stand and face Archer, then why wasn't Shirou —

"I announce," he said suddenly, quietly at first, but swiftly gaining volume. His left hand burned. The incantation screamed frantically through his brain. "Thou shall come under my command, and my fate shall be thy sword!"

"What?" Archer whispered in a strangled voice.

"Abiding by the summons of the Holy Grail, if thou dost accede to this will, this reason, then answer me!" Shirou pulled himself to his feet as his left hand pulsed with fire and his veins filled with lava. He reached out towards Saber. "Saber! You are my sword!"

Archer's only choice to stop what was happening was to remove one of the participants from the equation. Shirou was farther away, harder to reach. The logical decision was to strike Saber, who was closer and vulnerable.

But something slowed Archer's attack. By the time he swung down, pitifully slowly compared to how swiftly he'd destroyed Caliburn, Saber had already rolled out of the way, crossed the distance, and grasped Shirou's hand in hers.

"I, Servant Saber, accept this oath!" she answered. "Shirou! You are my Master!"

The moment the contract was made, a violent wind erupted and three familiar red markings etched themselves onto Shirou's left hand. The weakness that had previously plagued Saber was gone, and suddenly, she was at full strength. No, that wasn't right, Saber was stronger than before, stronger than she had ever been in Shirou's experience. All that had happened was the restoration of the contract, so why…?

Ah.

This was what their bond was like when the contract was complete, rather than only half-there. Yes, it was only natural. Rin possessed the overflowing magical energy that could give Saber unstoppable strength, but whereas Rin was simply the most compatible Master overall, Shirou was the most compatible Master for Saber.

In the end, even if Rin could push Saber's abilities even farther, Saber was always more compatible with Shirou.

"…This wasn't supposed to happen," Archer murmured in something between frustration and disbelief.

"You shall not take another step towards Shirou, Archer," Saber declared as though it were fact. No, of course it was fact. Like this, Archer was no match for Saber. "So what will you do now? You cannot possibly conceive that it is within your ability to win against me now."

"Tch," Archer scoffed. "You think you can win now simply because your energy is replenished?!"

He rushed forward, Kanshou and Bakuya in hand, but was repelled easily — Saber had not been forced to retreat even an inch. It was Archer who was forced back, who had to defend as Saber leapt into action with her golden sword, bare to the moonlight, and struck at him mercilessly.

They danced around the clearing, Archer retreating as best he could but never making it quite out of Saber's range. It would not take long for him to run out of energy and fall — no matter how much energy he may have had, it was inevitable that he would run dry because he didn't have a Master to replenish him, nor even to keep him tied to the world.

It happened quickly — Archer's balance was destroyed, and Saber's following blow forced him down onto one knee, swords crossed over his head. The moment his arms lost their strength, Archer would be killed and vanish. It was only natural. Saber, classed most excellent out of all the Servants, was in far better shape than she had ever been before, and Archer, though uninjured, was in far worse shape than Shirou had ever seen him.

"This is the end, Archer," Saber said calmly. "Without a Master to keep you in this world or even a supply of magical energy, you have no chance of competing with me."

"Heh." Despite his situation, Archer chuckled. "Your concern is unnecessary, Saber. As an Archer, I possess the skill 'Independent Action,' so I can remain in this world without a Master for two days. That's plenty of time to kill that boy."

"Are you so determined to kill Shirou?" Saber demanded, her calm gone. "Ridiculous! Archer, do you mean to tell me that your purpose in this War is not the Grail, but killing my Master? What could you possibly —"

"Someone plagued by such a foolish wish," Archer said lowly, "should not lecture me on my own path!"

Saber flinched as though she had been slapped, and it slackened her sword just enough for Archer to push her away and leap backwards himself. Saber didn't follow; she set herself up in front of Shirou, sword raised defensively.

Archer chuckled again and stood straight.

"I shouldn't have even tried," he chastised himself; the swords in his hands vanished. "I knew from the beginning that I couldn't possibly defeat you in a contest of sword skill."

The grip Saber had on her sword loosened just the slightest. "Then you are going to surrender?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Archer barked. "First of all, I'm an Archer. I'm not someone who uses swords in battle."

He closed his eyes briefly and let out a breath.

"_I am the bone of my sword,_" he said, and his words reverberated inside of Shirou, who understood only vaguely that what was about to happen would be bad.

"_Unknown to death, nor known to life._"

"Saber!" Shirou called. "Don't let him finish!"

Saber looked back at him. "Shirou —?"

"— _Unlimited Blade Works_."

But there was no time. Saber didn't follow his order swiftly enough, and so Archer finished his incantation. A ring of fire grew outwards from Archer's feet, sweeping along the ground, painting the lake with oranges and reds. The fire swept outwards, consumed Shirou, Rin, and Saber all at once.

When it was gone, the lakeside had vanished. The place they had entered instead…

_Kanshou, Bakuya, Harpe, Durandal, Gram, Caliburn, Houtengeki, Gáe Bolg, Gungnir, Rule Breaker, Caladbolg, Hrunting, Dainsleif, Brionac_ —

…was a wasteland filled with swords.

"This is…"

There were great gears hanging in the sky, a mist that suffused the entire world, and a distant light not unlike the blaze of a far off fire. The ground was barren but for the swords, the weapons that were buried tip-first into the soil.

— _AlWayS ALONE, sTrIVing fOr UTOPIA_ —

"…A Reality Marble," Rin's voice said quietly. It wasn't contemplative or surprised. She was simply stating a fact. "A strictly forbidden magic that violates reality and replaces the world itself with the caster's inner landscape — his soul. It's not the weapon of a swordsman or an archer. It can only belong to —"

"A Magus," Archer finished for her. "Indeed, that's what I was before I ascended."

"So then," Rin went on, "your Noble Phantasm —"

"I have no such thing," Archer agreed. "I never wielded any great weapon or skill in my life. The only thing I have, the only thing I've ever had, is this world. You could call it my Noble Phantasm if you really like, but it's not strictly such a thing as that. It's simply my world. Any weapon I've ever seen is recorded and stored here, on this hill. That is my ability as a Heroic Spirit."

"Then," Saber took a step forward, "this is your world, Archer?"

"Indeed. I don't blame you if you're skeptical. If you would like me to offer proof, then I can — I'll replicate that sword of yours, Saber."

Archer made an outlandish claim. Shirou, perhaps better than even Saber herself, understood just how outrageous it was. Replicate Excalibur? In his condition, with the amount of energy he had available, that was nothing short of —

"Impossible," was Saber's immediate reply. "Replicate my Excalibur? You say such a thing, even knowing its true nature?"

Archer chuckled.

"It wouldn't be perfect," he admitted, "but I bet I could come real close. But if I did, what would happen? Could anyone survive a clash between two holy swords like that? Or would it simply wipe all four of us clear off the map?"

He raised his hand, and Shirou watched as the swords behind him lifted off the hill and into the air.

"You know what it means," Archer said simply. "You cannot use that sword of yours, or else I will oppose you with a duplicate. Just stay there and be defeated, and Rin can take his Command Seals when I've finished with him — you can have a much better Master when this is all over."

His hand dropped. It was the gesture meaning death, or certain defeat, at the very least. Even Saber wouldn't be able to dodge or deflect all of them, not while she had to defend Shirou.

"Archer…!"

That wasn't something Shirou could accept.

"Be original, damn it!"

Shirou placed himself in front of Saber, ignored her calling his name in protest, and fired up another Projection.

It didn't need to be perfect, it didn't need to be good, it just had to be enough to deflect the oncoming swarm.

A rain of Noble Phantasms, copied both from Gilgamesh and from the library standing around him, shot forth to oppose Archer's attack. Steel rang loudly as it clashed against steel. Broken swords flew every which way — one even managed to knick Shirou on the cheek — and clattered uselessly all over the place.

It was only natural.

As long as it was simply about quantity, then the fight would always end in a draw. You could not use your arsenal to bury an opponent in steel if that opponent could copy that arsenal and turn his replicas against you. As long as Archer tried to overwhelm Shirou with numbers, Shirou could match him for every sword produced.

It ended in a moment. One second, swords were raining, and then the next, the false world vanished and they were standing by the lake again. Ruined weapons of every kind lay about on the ground, shattered and useless and already fading. Saber seemed stunned — or perhaps she simply had no words to describe her feelings on the matter.

Whether the world vanished on the intent of the owner or had simply been crushed by the real world was up for debate.

Shirou fell to his knees as a sudden migraine pressed against his head from either side. It was not from doing something impossible, but rather from the strain of duplicating so many weapons so swiftly while skipping all the usual steps faster than he was used to.

In that sense, perhaps Shirou actually _had_ done something impossible — or, well, something that had previously been impossible.

"Hey — Archer, put me down!"

But Archer had suffered no such strain. He only gave Shirou a short glare as he walked away, Rin tucked under one arm and impotently beating at his biceps. Even so, Archer was a Servant. Rin was nowhere near strong enough to break his grip on her own; she was nothing more than a nuisance — a fact Archer proved when he let out a sigh and pressed a hand to the back of her neck. She fell limp immediately.

"Archer!" Saber barked at last. "Where are you going?"

"Someplace where there won't be any interruptions," Archer admitted freely. "For the moment, I don't have enough magical energy to face the two of you."

Shirou blinked open his eyes. The migraine was starting to subside. Avalon was healing him.

"And what," he began, "what exactly do you need Tousaka for?"

Archer smirked. "She's insurance. If I take her with me, then I know for sure that you'll show up."

And it made maddening sense. He hadn't even given it thought yet, but Archer had already planned for the possibility that Shirou would just leave him to run dry and vanish. If he took Rin, then he provided motivation for Shirou to rescue her, and therefore a guarantee that Shirou would show up to fight him.

…Damn it.

"Fine," he bit out. "You want somewhere out of the way, right? Where no one can interrupt us or interfere? Then —" there was only one place that could guarantee such a thing; he'd have to apologize to Ilya — "we'll use the Einzbern Castle on the outskirts."

Archer only laughed, as though he had known exactly which place Shirou would pick.

"As good a choice as any," Archer agreed. "Just remember, Emiya Shirou. I can only guarantee Rin's safety for a day. If you don't show up soon enough, then her value as a hostage becomes zero. Got it?"

And with that parting shot, Archer left.

"…Damn it."

With the threat gone, Saber let go of her sword and was at his side in a flash, one arm wrapped around his shoulders.

"Are you all right, Shirou?" she asked him softly. "You aren't injured, are you?"

"No, I'm fine," he assured her. "It's nothing."

He tried to stand, but his knees wobbled unsteadily — it seemed he hadn't completely recovered from the strain of what he'd done. Saber didn't let him fall back down and offered her shoulder as support to keep him upright. She frowned at him.

"You are not fine," she surmised. "Shirou, you really must stop straining yourself like this. Eventually, this sort of recklessness will get you killed. It will do you no good to drive yourself to your grave."

That was wrong.

"I can't stop," Shirou told her. "I need to keep moving. I need to beat Archer, save Rin, protect Ilya, protect —"

_Protect __you_, he didn't say. He appreciated her concern, but he couldn't stop, not until the War was over, not until Kotomine, Gilgamesh, and the Grail were all taken care of. If he stopped, then he would lose.

If he lost, then Angra Mainyu would be born into the world, and everyone would die.

There was a long pause.

"Master," Saber said quietly, using his title rather than his name, "at the beginning of this War, you promised me that you would help me fulfill my wish. Right now, my wish is to keep you from harm — Shirou, all I want is for you to be safe."

A warmth blossomed in Shirou's heart, but it was not the time for that. There was still much to be done before he considered the wonderful feelings that wanted to burst free from his chest.

"…Let's find Ilya and go home. We can worry about Archer tomorrow."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They found Ilya sequestered away in a vacant room inside the shrine, dressed in the clothes she'd been kidnapped in. Saber had tried to carry her, but Shirou insisted that he do it, as Ilya was his responsibility.

She hadn't been happy, but she'd agreed eventually.

They'd already had dinner before the first fight with Caster and Kuzuki, so they didn't bother eating, and Saber, respecting his wishes, didn't talk of what would happen tomorrow — the fight with Archer. Fuji-nee hadn't yet woken up from the spell Rin had placed her under and Ilya was still unconscious from whatever Caster had done to her. Sakura was absent, but given the late hour, that was only natural. Like that, the rest of the evening passed, and before he knew it, the house was quiet and everyone had gone to sleep.

So, like that, Shirou tried to implement his plan again. With a little bit of regret, he pulled himself free of Saber and crept out to the shed again, ignoring the cool night air and the little puffs of steam that left his mouth with every breath. He opened the shed door, closed it behind him, and made his way over to the magic circle as he had the night before.

Before he began, he looked around and checked for observers one last time. When the coast was obviously clear, he closed his eyes, flipped on his Magic Circuits, and reached deep within himself, deeper than he had reached all but once or twice before.

"Trace…_on._"

Judge the concept of creation.

Visualize the basic structure.

Duplicate the component materials.

Match the original craftsmanship.

Sympathize with the experience of its growth.

Reproduce the accumulated age.

Excel every manufacturing process.

In his hands, Avalon, the sheath of the sword, Excalibur, appeared. Shirou opened his eyes and gazed upon its golden form — flawless. Of all the things Shirou had Projected, Avalon was without a doubt the most finely crafted. It was only natural. Avalon was Shirou's ideal, in a way, and his body had carried it for most of his life. He knew it better than anything else in his arsenal.

With his creation set, Shirou placed it correctly aligned with the magic circle, stood, put himself into the correct place, and pulled out a slip of paper. On the paper, there was his modified incantation.

This was what he'd use to complete his plan.

So it was time to start.

"Gold and steel to the Origin," he called. "A foundation of stone and the promise of victory. The master is the Lady of the Lake."

At his feet, the magic circle that had been formed so long ago glowed, and the sheath set in the place of honor shone with an inner light. Shirou continued.

"Let the sea of clouds form a ceiling. Let the four gates be bound in distant thunder. Withstand the flood and come forth, following the forked road to the Kingdom. Return, return, return, return, return. Repeat five times, and answer each time!"

The glow brightened and intensified, and a gale swept outwards from the circle like a hurricane. Lightning forked along the glowing lines and crackled with the threat of breaking loose.

Shirou didn't let it deter him.

"I hereby propose!" he called over the wind. "Through this offering, a contract: my fate is in your hands, my sword yours to wield! In accordance with the prayers of all mankind, if you abide by this feeling and reason, then answer! This is my oath: I am the one who becomes all the good of this world! I am the one who will save everybody!"

He thrust his hand towards the circle. "You, who cast the brand Excalibur, arrive on this plane, O keeper of balance!"

The circle roared and screamed, and for a second, he thought that he might have made a mistake, as he had before, but then Avalon glowed like a newly born star. It glowed and glowed and swallowed the entire shed in its light, and suddenly, Shirou was being pulled along, squeezed through something, through a hole in reality —

"_You called_."

There was no way to describe the sheer joy in that voice.

Shirou landed with a slam beside a lake, tingles of pain shooting up and down his legs and swirling in his knees. His breath had been sucked straight from his chest, and it took a moment to regain his bearings as the dizziness in his head slowed to a stop.

It was the same lake as before, the same lake as the one he'd visited the night previous, and yet…different. He was completely clothed, dressed in what he'd worn when completing the ritual. There was no mist shrouding the world in twilight, the brilliant golden sun shone down from the bright blue sky, a cool, comforting breeze blew, and standing in the lake was not one woman, but two.

"Welcome, Emiya Shirou," the unfamiliar woman said in a regal voice.

"Welcome to your destiny," the familiar woman said.

The first woman wore a white gown trimmed with gold. Her eyes were red and her hair was the color of sunlight. Draped around her neck was an assortment of jewelry, and resting upon her brow was a golden circlet decorated with sapphires.

The second woman was the woman in the blue gown from the previous night, and it was suddenly and abundantly clear just who she was now.

"The Lady of the Lake," he concluded numbly. The woman in the blue gown smiled.

He turned to look at the other. "The Fairy Queen."

The woman in white smiled, too.

There was a moment of silence where they did nothing but smile at him, and he felt ridiculous and foolish beneath their gazes, which seemed to strip away everything else and see into his very soul. He was a peasant standing before a queen — unworthy and worthless. Despite that he was fully clothed, he had never felt more naked in his entire life.

"You know why I'm here," he said awkwardly. The smiles on their faces turned predatory.

"We do," they both said.

"When you called upon Caliburn against Heracles, it was simply a projection, and it would have remained so," the queen said.

"Except that we had plans for you," the Lady of the Lake told him. "We knew you would seek us out, we knew that you would need a weapon of great power."

"And so we gave you a taste. We repaired the broken Sword of Victory and gave it to you."

"From the moment you touched that golden hilt, the path that led you to us was opened."

"For us, time is not the obstacle it is for you," the queen said.

"The past is the present is the future," the Lady of the Lake added.

"We have seen your every triumph—"

"— your every defeat —"

"— your successes —"

"— your failures."

"You are no more a stranger to us than the King you cherish so completely," the Lady of the Lake said.

"Every decision you could make —"

"— every decision you _would_ make —"

"— every challenge you overcame —"

"— every challenge that you failed —"

"— every joy —"

"— every heartbreak —"

"We've seen it all," the queen said.

"We have even foreseen what you want here —"

"— and what you will decide to do with our offer."

"Now, it is merely a matter of formality."

"And so, we must warn you —"

"— Emiya Shirou —"

"— to take up this sword is to take an oath."

"To take up this sword is to abide a contract."

"Though you will live in a world of humans, you will live unlike any other —"

"— a different providence —"

"— a different time —"

"— a different life."

"From the moment you grasp this hilt, you will no longer be an ordinary man —"

"Your destiny will change."

"You will be a hero."

"You will be a guardian."

"You will be a King —"

"— not of people or land or nations —"

"— but of a concept —"

"— a belief —"

"— an ideal."

"And so we ask of you, Emiya Shirou —"

"—willst thou accept this sword and pledge?"

The back and forth of their sentences was a little jarring, but it did little to distract him from the words being spoken and the meaning contained therein. They were offering him a choice: he could have the weapon he sought, but he would be obliging himself to a specific destiny, like Saber had when she drew the sword from the stone.

The difference, perhaps, was that Saber knew exactly what awaited her from drawing the sword. Shirou didn't. Shirou knew that something would change the moment he accepted their offer, but he didn't know what, exactly, it was. He was going in blind. All he knew was that the path behind him was doomed to failure. The path ahead was uncertain and mysterious.

From the moment he'd stepped into his shed, there'd only been one choice he could make.

"I accept this contract," he said solemnly.

Both the queen and the Lady of the Lake smiled radiantly, and a warmth that had nothing to do with either erupted in Shirou's chest and spread slowly to his head, fingers, and toes. Something invisible constricted once around his wrists, then vanished.

"Very well, Emiya Shirou," the queen said.

"Then, please accept our gifts in return," the Lady of the Lake said.

Both of them kneeled, reached down into the lake they were standing in, and pulled something up. When she stood again, the queen had a pile of red and gold cloth folded in her arms. Shirou's mind instantly analyzed it, but the material was something he'd never seen before, not even on other Noble Phantasms. It was as though the entire thing was weaved from mystery. All he could make out was the incredible defense power the clothing in her arms possessed.

What the Lady of the Lake brought up was far more radiant. In her right hand, she brandished a sword, a European longsword that looked almost identical to Excalibur, save for the langet and the writing down the middle of the blade; the rest of the differences were minor dissimilarities with the hilt and pommel.

In her left hand, she held a small sheath that looked barely big enough to hold a dirk, let alone the sword in her right hand. It was made of gold and laced intricately with red and had more Fairy Letters etched on its face. It looked more like a work of art than a piece of equipment.

The moment he saw them, Shirou knew their nature as intimately as his own name. The sword was Escalvatine, a descendant of the trio of swords that had been given to Gawain, Lancelot, and King Arthur, designed specifically to combine the greatest strengths of all three. It was a sword crafted by a god, and its very nature made it stronger than the three swords after which it had been designed.

The sword itself was forged of mankind's dreams. It was the crystallized form of the prayer "Salvation," the desperate plea of the doomed and dying, of those rendered helpless and crying out for a savior. This was the legacy it inherited from Excalibur, the prayer named "Glory."

At its center, there blazed a fragment of sun, a piece of impossibility that churned out heat and light powerful enough to scorch the earth and fuse space together. It was a power that had been granted once before, a power that had been placed in Sir Gawain's Excalibur Galatine.

Protecting both was a flawless, adamantine defense — the very same ultimate shield that made Arondight unbreakable.

Its very nature…by its very nature, it could compete with that impossible sword, Ea.

The sheath was another story. Looking at it, Shirou could not make out a specific level of ability, only that it changed. But its strength was not necessarily important; what was important was its function, its ability to hide even large weapons like swords in plain sight. It would allow him to carry Escalvatine around inconspicuously.

This was Sarras.

The craftsmanship that had gone into the sheath was equivalent to Avalon, Excalibur's sheath. It was made from the same kind of gold, shaped to perfection, and inlaid with crimson enamel of the same quality as Avalon's. Fairy Letters identical to Escalvatine's were etched into either side, and a single ivory bolt held it all together. Though Avalon was leagues and fathoms more powerful, Sarras was no less a glorious piece of work.

The Lady of the Lake sheathed Escalvatine inside Sarras and held them before her. Together, she and the queen stepped forward, the water sloshing around their ankles, and out of the lake. They strode over to him, the queen in front, until he was standing nose-to-nose with her. She gave him a coy smile and placed the pile of clothes in his arms.

With her burden relieved, she stood back, and the Lady of the Lake stepped up and gently placed Escalvatine and Sarras atop the bundle of cloth he was carrying. She smiled, as well, but it was purer and kinder than the smile her counterpart had given him, then walked backwards and back into the lake.

"Long live the King!" the Lady crowed.

"Long live the King!" a chorus of a thousand voices echoed.

Then, Shirou was sucked backwards and squeezed back through the hole in reality he had gone through to get there, and everything went black.

"_Hail Apeiron Lepida Leitoyrgei, King of the Forsaken."_

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Servant: Saber  
>Spirit: King Arthur (Arturia Pendragon)<br>Master: Emiya Shirou  
>Alignment: Lawful Good<br>Strength: B  
>Mana: A<br>Endurance: B  
>Noble Phantasm: A++<br>Agility: B  
>Luck: A++<p>

Class Skills:  
>Magic Resistance: A<br>Riding: B

Personal Skills:  
>Charisma: B<br>Instinct: A  
>Prana Burst: A<p>

Noble Phantasms:  
>Avalon (Support): EX<br>Excalibur (Anti-Fortress): A++  
>Invisible Air (Anti-Unit): C<p>

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Um…Surprise?**

**So, last chapter really got my juices flowing, and I couldn't help but want to write this one, too. I might make a few changes based upon feedback and my own revisions, but the basic structure and events of this chapter will remain the same as they are now.**

**This chapter is a whole lot of GAR. And it's about twice as long as usual. I was actually tempted to break it up into two chapters.**

**How many of you actually expected a time travel story to get this crazy? I mean, really, seriously expected a time travel story to get so wild?**

**You know, it's only now, looking back at it, that I realize that the Fairy Queen looks like a female Gilgamesh.**

**Most of the Archer/Lancer fight was straight canon UBW, I just changed the wording. The potion, obviously, wasn't. Those of you who are unfamiliar with Caster's limitations, she can craft a potion of temporary immortality, so a healing potion is well within her abilities.**

**I bet there were plenty of things you weren't expecting in this chapter, and some that you actually were. Rest assured, I do have a definite storyline in this thing, so anything that might seem like a hole right now will probably be patched later on.**

**ESC**alibor S**ALVA**tion Gala**TINE  
><strong>**ESCALVATINE**

_**Unlimited Blade Works!**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	11. EMIYA

— _I am the bone of my sword_ —

— _Steel is my body and fire is my blood_ —

— _I have created over a thousand blades_ —

— _Unaware of loss_ —

— _Nor aware of gain_ —

— _Always alone, striving for Utopia_ —

— _I have no regrets. This is the only path_ —

— _My whole life was…_ —

— _Unlimited Blade Works_ —

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XI: EMIYA  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

There was a peace to be had in waking up spooned with the person you loved. Shirou recognized that better than most. His whole life was —

— _I have no regrets_ —

— the path of a sword, but a sword needed care and devotion to remain sharp and strong. It needed a sheath to protect it when it wasn't in use, or else it would rust, become pitted and chipped, and dull. It was inevitable that a sword used too much without proper protection and maintenance between battles would fall into disrepair, and would eventually break.

That was why Shirou, who was — _made of blades_ — a sword to be wielded for the sake of all mankind, needed moments like these, moments where he was put to rest and left to contentment.

Yes. If there was one thing Shirou had learned throughout his ordeals, it was that he needed someone to rely on in moments of peace, someone who could support him and care for him as he could not care for himself. Even if he had no regrets, even if he died saving just one person, he decided that the one person should be the person snuggled up against him, whose fingers were gently intertwined with his own, whose warm body was pressed against his, and who he cherished above all others.

Shirou wanted to save everyone, but he felt that he could die content if only he saved Saber.

She had once told him, in a future that would never happen if he had any say, that he was her sheath. He understood what she meant then, and he understood another aspect that he hadn't at the time: as much as he was _her_ sheath, _she_ was _his_.

In a sense, they were both a part of a dichotomy: swords to be wielded for each of their own ideals, but also sheaths to protect each other from wear, tear, and rust.

At the end of it all, they were the same: Saber, who had sacrificed her humanity and her future for the sake of _her_ ideals, and Shirou, who had sacrificed his future and his own sense of self-importance for the sake of _his_ ideals. Since they were each incapable of thinking of themselves as important, they had each other to make up the difference.

And Shirou was beginning to understand…that's what love was all about.

He breathed in deeply through his nose. The scent of the shampoo Saber had borrowed from Rin was gone, washed away in sweat from the pain she'd endured at Caster's hands the night before, and all that remained was the scent of Saber's power: burgundy and fresh water, and the undertone of a surprisingly feminine vanilla.

Vanilla…?

Ah. The vanilla wasn't his sixth sense "smelling" her power, but rather his much more mundane sense of smell. It was fitting, he supposed. "Vanilla" was also a slang term used to describe something that had been unaltered or something that was relatively tame — it was slang that Shirou had heard used to refer to both video games and sex.

Shirou breathed in the smell again.

So it made a sort of sense that Saber would smell of vanilla. She was pure and untainted, a perfect king who had never once made a mistake. Through war and tragedy and darkness, she remained pure and untainted. Through death and sadness and betrayal, she remained pure and untainted. Her entire life, she had remained the pure, untainted king of Britain who had swept aside any enemy who dared attack her. Even when she was betrayed, even when she had to watch her cherished knights fall around her, she had remained pure and untainted.

Even though Shirou felt that it had been wrong for her people to blame her for all their troubles, even though he thought it a tragedy that she had been forced into that role, he could not help admiring her for it, too.

For someone as pure as Saber…vanilla was indeed a suitable scent.

Shirou breathed it in again, allowed a small smile to curl over his lips, and was content.

It was strange. It wasn't that he didn't like it, but…when had he gotten so used to waking up cuddled with Saber?

The hand intertwined with his suddenly tightened. Saber's dainty little fingers, previously slackened and loose, grasped his as though to reassure herself that he was there. A soft, barely-there sigh passed her lips.

"Good morning, Shirou," she said quietly.

The small smile that curved Shirou's lips grew before he could stop himself. "Good morning, Saber."

"Can we…" the uncertainty in her voice sent Shirou's heart thumping, "_stay_ like this…just a little longer?"

The warmth that spread through Shirou's chest was intoxicating and wonderful. He gave her hand a gentle, lingering squeeze. "Sure."

They lay like that for a while, basking in each other's presence as the golden stripes of sunlight streaming across his floor grew steadily longer. Shirou figured he must have dozed off several times, and he was filled with such a profound sense of peace that he wondered how anyone could go their entire lives without feeling it.

It was hard to put into words. It was something so indescribably beautiful, something humbling and awe-inspiring, something overwhelming and all-consuming, and even those words didn't do it justice. It was…a moment from eternity.

A rose, by any other name…

"Shirou…?"

But all moments must end, and that one ended when Ilya slid open his door, leaned herself weakly against the doorframe, and lifted hazy, half-lidded eyes to look at him. Her face was flushed and feverish and she looked as though she were on the verge of collapse — which she very well might, he realized.

Ilya was the vessel for the Grail. When Servants died, they entered the Grail's vessel until the Grail itself was filled. Of the Servants summoned for the Fifth War, only Lancer, Saber, and Archer remained. The more Servants that died, the worse Ilya's condition would become, and Caster's attempt to use Ilya to call down the Grail early could only have worsened the situation.

Losing Ilya…had just become a very real, very frightening possibility.

Ilya slid down to her knees on the floor and rested her forehead against the doorframe.

"I don't…feel too good," she confessed.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They ate breakfast quietly — Shirou and Saber were too busy keeping an eye on Ilya to strike up conversation at the table, even to discuss the War. Ilya herself ate very little, and it looked like she had trouble keeping what she did eat from coming back up. It was like watching someone who had the flu, which was probably an accurate enough analogy that he didn't need to search for a better one.

After breakfast, Ilya muttered her thanks and tried to stand, but fell immediately. Shirou was at her side the moment her legs wobbled, and was a little worried when he felt exactly how sweaty and hot her skin was and just how badly she was trembling and shivering. He hadn't wasted any time getting her back to bed after that, and he honestly felt bad about the fact that he would have to leave her at home while he went off to fight Archer.

But Rin was in more immediate danger.

"There isn't much we can do for her," Saber informed him quietly. A low moan came from inside the door they were standing in front of, and Shirou glanced at it as though he could peer into the room beyond it. "Shirou, you must already know. Ilyasviel is the vessel of the Grail. The further into the War we go, the more her situation will deteriorate."

Shirou grimaced and looked back at Saber. "I know," he told her.

Rin had told him last time. They had a little while before she got too sick to stay conscious for more than a few minutes at a time, but until then, she would just keep getting worse and worse, and there was nothing he could do about it except watch.

It reminded him of Kiritsugu — he'd been a little too young at the time to notice all the signs until that night when Kiritsugu had died, but looking back on it now, the steadily worsening fatigue, the weakness, and the declining appetite all pointed towards the curse that had ended his father's life. Well, knowing what he knew _now_, it all pointed to that curse, but for an ordinary person, the best analogy would be a terminal illness.

It was uncomfortable to realize that Ilya was wasting away the same way Kiritsugu had, only much more quickly.

"…It'll take three hours to get to the Einzbern Castle," Shirou said after a long moment. "We should get going. I'll leave a note for Fuji-nee to let her know that we're going to be out all day."

He turned around to head to his room, where Escalvatine and Sarras, as well as the clothing he'd been given, waited for him. Saber's footsteps thudded after him as he walked.

"Are you certain about this, Shirou?" she asked him seriously. "Archer is a Servant. It is not your obligation to fight him, no matter what he says —"

"It's not about obligation," Shirou told her. "It's about a grudge, that's it. This is a battle for my ideals. Refusing to fight him is the same as admitting that I don't believe in them strongly enough to fight for them. It's just that simple."

"Even still, Shirou," her voice insisted, "he is a Servant. You are a human being, no matter how it is you could resist Berserker's strength, and Archer is not an opponent who will forsake strategy for raw power. He is not an enemy you can defeat with nothing more than strength and determination — and worse still, his skillset is the same as yours and he is far more practiced in it! Shirou, he is your —!"

"I know what he is," Shirou admitted. "I think…I've probably always known, since the moment I met him."

From the beginning, there'd been the sense that the two of them could never get along. In hindsight, it was only natural. The only thing you could do when faced with your worst mistakes was look away.

"That's why I have to fight him. No — that's why I'm the only one who _can_ fight him. And if he has the same skillset as me, only better…"

Shirou flung open the door to his bedroom, strode purposefully across the room, and pulled the bundle of cloth from its hiding place. There was no point in trying to hide it from her now, not when she would see it within the day anyway.

"Then it's a good thing," he told her seriously as he unraveled the bundle of red and gold cloth, "that I won't be fighting him using that skillset."

Escalvatine's shining gold hilt glittered in the sunlight streaming through the window. Saber looked surprised, at first, and then worried and angry and horrified all at once. The brilliant green eyes that locked with his were haunted and dismayed.

"What have you done?" she asked hoarsely.

He set Escalvatine and Sarras down on his desk and let the bundle of cloth fall all the way open. It was a pair of pants, a shirt, and a coat with a hood, all lined and trimmed with what looked like golden silk. It was an outfit appropriate for a noble, decorated on the back and the shoulders with symbols and designs not all too dissimilar from the blue etchings on Saber's armor.

"I've pulled the sword from the stone," he explained simply. He knew that she would understand he meant — this girl before him was King Arthur.

"Shirou," she said his name in a whisper.

The look on her face was pained, and any other girl would probably have shed at least a few tears to be in as much emotional agony as she seemed to be. He hadn't expected anything else from her — her greatest regret was pulling Caliburn from the stone, not because she regretted what it had done to her, but because it had led her country to ruin, even if Shirou knew that none of it was her fault.

To watch someone else make a similar decision, to watch someone else throw away their future in order to fulfill a destiny of servitude to a people, especially when that someone happened to be so close to her…

Shirou understood why it hurt her.

"I can't explain everything now," he said quietly. "But I promise that I will. The one thing I will say is…I'll never regret it."

There was a moment of silence.

"I see," she said neutrally. The strength returned to her voice. "Yes, I always knew my Master was that kind of person. If this is your wish, Shirou…then I have no right to stop it."

For some reason, Shirou wished that she had been angrier with him.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

It was past noon by the time they reached the castle and entered through the gates. Saber walked stiffly beside him. He didn't have to be an expert to know that she was upset with him, and though he understood perfectly well why she was, he'd told the truth when he'd said that he would never regret his decision to accept the sword.

Accepting the contract that had gotten him Escalvatine was only natural. It was not as though he had signed away his soul to a selfish, destructive entity that would only cause pain and suffering. It was the opposite — the contract had been so easy to accept because the terms of the contract were the fulfillment of his dream, ambition, or whatever you wanted to call it.

To put it simply, the contract made for Escalvatine was that Shirou would become a hero. It was not conditional, like "if you accept, then you have to become a hero, or the deal is off." It was "by accepting this contract, you will become a hero."

Rin would have said that it was too good to be true, that the contract and the weapon he received for accepting it were too neatly tailored to suit him and so there had to be a catch. Shirou didn't think so. It was the same as Saber pulling Caliburn from the stone — it was a destiny uniquely suited for him, and so it was only natural that he would be the one to accept it.

That was why he had accepted it. Emiya Shirou wanted to be a hero in order to save people, and the Lady of the Lake had given him the opportunity to see that dream come true. There had been no need for intense thought or thorough analysis of the contract; there had only been accepting it. There was no other choice.

Refusing it would have been a denial of the person who was Emiya Shirou.

It was not like the promise of the Grail — it was not a miracle granted by an omnipotent being. It was simply a tool to be used for Emiya Shirou to realize his dream.

The entrance hall that Ilya had chased them through just a scant few nights ago was in ruin when Shirou and Saber walked through the front door. The balcony that overlooked it was riddled with holes and missing chunks, and nearly the entire left side of the stairway had been obliterated mercilessly. Bits and pieces of tile, carpet, and all sorts of other debris littered the floor, every single window had been shattered, and a single large hole roughly the size of a wrecking ball pierced through the ceiling, all the floors above it, and straight through the roof.

In short, the entrance hall looked like it had been hit with a typhoon.

"So, you've finally showed up." A cold voice echoed across the room. "You're late, Emiya Shirou."

The figure in red, black, and silver stood on the second floor at the top of the stairs. He stood where Berserker had stood just a few nights ago in a complete mockery of the situation into which Rin had ordered him, golden afternoon sunlight streaming down across his shoulders like a cape. There could be no doubt that some of the gouges and trenches carved into the floor and walls had been caused by him.

"You should already know," Shirou looked up at the figure stonily, the figure who looked so much like himself, but was so different. "If you are who you are, then you already know that I was going to come, either way."

Archer cracked a grim smile. "Indeed. And what of you, Saber?"

Archer's eyes roved over to Saber, whose hands were clenching and unclenching as she stood stock still next to him. She knew what was going to happen, she knew that Shirou and Archer were going to fight, and it pained her that she had promised not to interfere.

That was alright. Shirou appreciated her concern, and he knew that she hadn't yet seen what his contract had given him in return. If he had gone into this situation completely unprepared, then he knew he would have resigned himself to the possibility that she so clearly feared: that he would die at Archer's hand.

"Are you going to interfere?" Archer asked.

"No," Saber said firmly. Despite the tension in her body, her voice was almost entirely calm. "I have promised my Master that I won't interfere in this fight."

Shirou knew well enough by now to recognize that her calling him by his title rather than his name meant that she wasn't happy with the order — or, well, promise, as it was in this situation.

"Good," Archer said. "Then I can kill him without worry. When I'm done, Saber, you can go get Rin and make a contract with a competent Magus. She should manage to free herself by the time this is over."

Saber's hand twitched as though she longed to grasp Excalibur and the serious frown on her face deepened into a scowl.

"…As you say," she conceded grudgingly. "But I have a question before your battle begins, Archer. Why is it that you are so determined to kill Shirou?"

"There's nothing to explain," Archer declared simply. He started slowly down the stairs. "Just as he cannot approve of me, I cannot approve of him."

"No!" Saber's composed expression ruptured as she took a step forward and gestured furiously. "You are Shirou! You are the Emiya Shirou who walked through blood and battle and achieved your ideal! Why would want to kill yourself?"

"You're wrong," Archer told her. "The hero called Emiya and the inept Magus known as Emiya Shirou are two entirely different existences, or else there could not be two of us standing before you."

"You are a Servant!" Saber pointed out passionately. "As a Heroic Spirit, you can be summoned back to a time in which you lived because you no longer exist on the axis of time! You are Shirou! You are the Emiya Shirou who fought and persevered to reach his ideal! So why —"

Her voice cracked and she looked to Shirou with a raw, genuine fear on her face. She was afraid, afraid that the broken, twisted existence descending the stairs was the destiny of the boy standing next to her. When she spoke again, even though her words were directed at Archer, she didn't tear her gaze away from Shirou.

"Why are you so different?"

Saber looked at him, but Archer didn't respond.

He didn't need to; Shirou didn't need to hear him explain himself. There was no excuse he would accept.

But Saber needed an answer. "You're a Heroic Spirit, Archer! Why would you —"

"Heroic Spirit?" Archer asked rhetorically. "No, I'm not a Heroic Spirit. I'm a Counter Guardian. Great men and women who commit miraculous acts of heroism become Heroic Spirits after death. Counter Guardians…are just cleaners. Janitors who can only act once a mess has already gotten out of control."

The smile on Archer's face was cold and filled with self-loathing. "That is _not_ the kind of hero I wanted to become."

"Archer…"

"I saved the world," he went on. "I made my ideal a reality. And in the end, my reward was an endless list of regrets. All that was left was death."

"But you…" Saber protested weakly. Archer didn't seem to hear her.

"I killed and killed and killed. I've lost count of exactly how many lost their lives beneath my blade," he ranted. "I killed until nothing mattered — guilty or innocent, good or evil, it was all the same. And I saved a thousand times as many people as I killed. It went like that in an endless cycle. I fought, and I saved people, but no matter how hard I tried, someone died. No matter how much I fought, I couldn't save everyone."

His steely gray eyes were as cold and sharp as a naked blade.

"No matter how many conflicts I ended, still more were created," he continued. "And so I killed. I ignored dozens to save one, then ignored even more to save the people I'd ignored before. I killed scores of people and saved only those I could see. I told myself every time that that time would be the last, that it would end. But it never did. Every time a conflict was resolved, another appeared. That was fine. I didn't dream of a world without conflicts. I just wanted to make sure that no one in front of me cried."

He chuckled self-depreciatingly. "After saving countless lives, I finally realized that my ideal was nothing more than a convenient fantasy. At the end of the day, you can't save everyone. In order to save one person, another must be sacrificed. In order to save a hundred, ten must die. Like that, I betrayed my ideal to protect it."

The chuckle erupted into a full-blown laugh. "And the best part — one of the very people I saved accused me of being the cause of the conflict I saved them from, and executed me for it!"

The laughter slowed and died.

"But I didn't care about that," he admitted. "I just wanted everyone to be happy. So, in death, I became a Counter Guardian to strive for the ideal I had in life, so I could fulfill that wish. Except that it never came true."

Even the faintest traces of a smile had vanished from his face. "Counter Guardians are cleaners who protect the survival of all mankind. I thought it would be fine to become a Counter Guardian in order to pursue my ideal, but I was wrong. Counter Guardians don't save people. They clean up the messes people make. They kill whoever and whatever threatens the future of mankind, without mercy and without distinction. As a Counter Guardian, Emiya Shirou's ideal could not be realized. All that remained was an endless cycle of conflict and despair, with no way out."

His gray eyes lanced Shirou. "Unless…"

"That's pointless!" Saber said furiously. The fire that had patiently simmered while Archer explained his life roared. "You are already a Counter Guardian, Archer! Even if you kill Shirou to prevent your own existence, you will have accomplished nothing! It is already too late to prevent was has already occurred!"

Archer said nothing for a moment.

"You might be right," he admitted frankly. "But however small it is, there's still a chance. Altering the past might not be enough by itself, but if I'm the one to do it, the paradox might be enough to destroy the existence of the hero Emiya."

"Archer…!"

It was Saber who said it, but Shirou had heard enough. There was nothing more to do, now, except to confront this aberration that stood in front of him. So, filled with a sort of calm, righteous anger, Shirou stepped forward.

"Archer," he said lowly, "just answer me one thing. Do you regret it?"

"After all of this, you really need to ask that?" Archer demanded mockingly. "You really are hopeless."

An answer without actually giving an answer. That was fine. Shirou had already known what the answer was; asking the question had merely been a formality.

"I see," he said. "Then there's no problem. Because I…will _never_ regret it."

"It's that way of thinking that brought us here in the first place," Archer told him scornfully. "There will come a time when you find yourself in my place."

"That time will never come," Shirou declared confidently. "The difference between you and I…"

He unsheathed Escalvatine.

"— is right _here_!"

They leapt at each other at the same moment, Shirou with Escalvatine in his hands and Archer wielding Kanshou and Bakuya. It was a clash between two nearly identical existences — one, who wielded a pair of swords with no greater purpose than their craftsmanship, and the other, who wielded a single longsword crafted to surpass even the legendary Excalibur.

The first blow was blocked, and Shirou didn't possess the sort of advantage needed to simply crash through the projected swords to strike at Archer's body. No, the blow was blocked and shunted to the side, and Archer immediately aimed around to strike him from different angles.

Shirou realized at that moment the advantage that Archer had by wielding two swords. He blocked the black Kanshou with his sword and the white Bakuya with his left sleeve — the surprised look on Archer's face was priceless.

It was only natural. If he were to judge, Shirou would say that Archer was attacking with power roughly equivalent to half of his full strength — no doubt to preserve his dwindling energy stores — which was roughly equal to a rating of "E." Shirou's armor was cloth, true, but specially crafted by the Fairies. It had a defense rating somewhat higher than "D" but not quite as high as "C." Under such a situation, blocking an attack like that with just his sleeve was certainly feasible.

But it wouldn't last. The first time was a surprise, but from then on, Archer would specifically adjust his output to account for the armor's defensive rating.

"You're naïve!" With a roar, Archer made the second attack, a flurry of blows filled with all his strength. It was only the half-remembered remnants of Saber's technique that allowed Shirou to block them. "Those clothes on your back! That sword in your hands! You've naively contracted an entity so much bigger than you in the hopes of achieving your ideal!"

Black Kanshou and white Bakuya were blurs as they struck, and Shirou was forced on the defensive as Archer tried his level best to smash through his guard and end his life. Shirou held on, dragging up the dregs of skill that had been imparted to him during his experience with Caliburn.

"You've thrown away your life, your future, and your soul to selfishly pursue an impossible dream! The road that stretches before you is one of misery and betrayal! The only thing that awaits you at the end of your path is disappointment!"

A flash as black and white met gold — an image was engraved into Shirou's mind of a hill of corspes, littered with blades to mark the dead, with a dull fire blazing in the background.

— _I am the bone of my sword_ —

"It doesn't matter if it's impossible!" Shirou retorted. "Even if you say it can never happen, then I'll just _make_ it happen! I won't give up on it!"

Archer swung Kanshou and Bakuya down again, and Shirou blocked with his golden sword, but the moment the swing was completed, the black and white swords vanished and Archer was gripping a spiral-shaped sword in both hands. Caladbolg.

Shirou could see what Archer was going to do before he did it, and by the time the conical point of the sword passed through the spot where he had just been, Shirou had already dodged and deflected the blade down.

But by then, Archer had discarded Caladbolg and Traced Durandal, the Peerless Sword, and the sword that never dulled met the sword that could never break.

"No matter how hard you try," Archer intoned dangerously, "you'll never reach that ideal you strive for. The life you will lead will be filled with emptiness and despair. The ideal that you chase after hopelessly will abandon you just as surely as you will abandon it!"

Another flash — a broken figure, hunch-backed and defeated, standing atop the hill and silhouetted by the flames.

— _Steel is my body and fire is my blood_ —

Shirou shoved him away.

"I don't care what you say!" he countered. "I'm —!"

A buzz of static filled his ears, and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he realized what he was even saying. "— always alone, striving for Utopia!"

He surged forwards with Escalvatine raised.

"Meaningless!" Archer roared back, and he, too, leapt forwards. "There's no value in that sort of life! You're a distorted fake, a broken human being who should never have even existed!"

"_I_ give it value!" Shirou brought his sword down heavily. Archer grunted and blocked it with a hastily made pair of Kanshou and Bakuya. "As long as I follow my ideal, it'll never be wasted!"

They clashed again and again, dancing over the piles of rubble and the gouges in the floor. Archer projected a new sword with every swing, but nothing fazed Escalvatine, and some of them even broke under the magnificence of the golden blade.

It was only natural. The nature of Emiya Shirou was that of "imitation." Everything he did was an imitation of another. Every sword he wielded was a fake made from the image of the real thing. The hero called Emiya was the epitome of this nature, a being who made up for his lack of originality by possessing every weapon he could need to win a battle.

The problem for the hero Emiya was that the Emiya Shirou he fought had gone beyond a mere imitation and become something of his own. The sword in his hands was not a fake or an imitation, but a genuine sword crafted by a god to possess a power greater even than Excalibur's. The skill with which the sword was wielded was not special. The strength behind each blow was not special. What was special was the sword that made those blows. The hero Emiya had no weapon capable of rivaling it. Not unless he decided to try and Trace Excalibur, as he had threatened before.

But it wouldn't stop him. The hero Emiya was a hero who had used skill and strategy to fight beings far beyond his physical limits. That was why Shirou didn't give up. That was why Shirou didn't slow down or pause. The moment he gave the hero Emiya time to consider his options, it was inevitable that he would lose.

"Everything about you is fake!" Archer's voice rang out through the hall. Gram, the Norse Sword of Ruin and Glory, appeared in his grasp. "Even your ideals are borrowed from another! He saved you from that fire! He rescued you from death! When you looked upon his face, you decided that you would give anything to know the sort of happiness he felt in that moment!"

— the broken, defeated figure, standing atop the hill, blood pouring down over his body —

— _I have created over a thousand blades_ —

Shirou swung Escalvatine down hard and Gram shattered in Archer's hands, but the pieces disappeared before they even hit the ground. The real Gram would have taken the blow without even chipping, but Archer's Gram was a fake that sacrificed a significant portion of its power in order to be crafted so quickly.

"Your dreams aren't your own!"

— Victorious atop a hill of corpses_ —_

— _Unknown to death —_

Dainsleif was cleaved in half. The blade flew off and out of sight, and Archer discarded the useless handle as swiftly as he'd grabbed it.

"Your ideals aren't your own!"

— but broken, beaten, and defeated_ —_

— _Nor known to life —_

Hauteclaire broke off at the hilt. Archer tossed it away, but it had vanished before it got any farther than a few inches from his fingers.

"Everything about you is a lie!"

— covered with wounds, impaled by countless swords_ —_

— _Have withstood pain to create many weapons —_

Shirou snarled.

"I refuse to be lectured," he smashed through the projected copy of Kanshou and Bakuya, "by someone who abandoned his ideals!"

— _Unaware of loss —_

The ringing of clashing swords echoed. No matter how many weapons were destroyed, Archer had another one ready the moment they broke. Every weapon that Archer pulled from his limitless arsenal was destroyed. It was the cost of limiting his usage of Prana — by reducing the amount of Prana used to create each weapon, each weapon created was fundamentally flawed, and so they all broke.

"You don't think I already knew all that?!"

— _Nor aware of gain —_

Escalvatine cut through the air. Archer blocked. The shock that went up his arms had to have rattled his teeth — Shirou knew his would have, too, if they weren't clenched tightly.

"I admired Kiritsugu's desire to save people because it's worth admiring!"

— _Always alone, striving for Utopia —_

Kanshou and Bakuya swung as blurs of black and white. Shirou blocked them. The vibrations traveled through his sword and up his arms, making his elbows ache.

"I adopted his dream and never looked back! Even when it hurt, even when I should have given up, I never stopped moving!"

— _I have no regrets —_

Their swords clashed and clashed again. Neither of them gave an inch — neither retreated, neither advanced. Neither of them was willing to lose to themself.

"It doesn't matter if they're not my dreams! It doesn't matter if they're not my ideals! As long as I believe in them, then who cares where they came from?!"

— _This is the only path —_

"That ideal is a failure!" Archer retorted. "The idea that everyone else is more important than you, the wish for everyone to be happy, is nothing more than a childish fantasy!"

— _Yet, these hands will never hold anything —_

"Then I'll live in that childish fantasy!" Shirou shot back. "I'll reject your reality and live in that fantasy! And I'll make it a reality!"

— _My whole life was —_

"Then if you refuse to accept the facts," Archer's voice rumbled, lowly at first, then louder, "drown in those ideals and die!"

— _So as I pray —_

"UNLIMITED BLADE WORKS!"

They both screamed it, but the nature of a Reality Marble is the replacing of reality with the caster's inner image of the world. By definition, two could not activate at the same time to replace the same space, so the only thing that happened was that both fizzled out simultaneously.

Like that, Archer's trump card had been defeated.

There was no longer a reason to argue; it was clear that there wasn't any point any longer. Archer would not be moved. Shirou would not be moved. Unstoppable force, immovable object. Neither one would convince the other through sincerity or pleading.

So Shirou didn't say anything. There was nothing more for him to say. He would not defeat Archer with words. There was no way he could win by convincing Archer with a moving speech. The only way to get through to Archer was to show him, to use action to speak for him louder than any words could.

That was why Shirou filled Escalvatine with Prana on his next swing. Kanshou and Bakuya shattered beneath the force of the blow, and Archer leapt back as the blade began to glow. The first real pause since the beginning of the fight settled over them and the devastated hallway.

"You never took a good look at it," Shirou said, "did you, Archer?"

Slowly, he lifted Escalvatine over his head and filled it with even more Prana. The blade glowed like a miniature sun and blazed with golden light. It was a radiance both beautiful and sorrowful all at once. It was the realization of Shirou's ideal.

This was the prayer, Salvation, crystallized as a sword.

"This is why…I can't lose to you, Archer!" Shirou called over the distance. "This sword is my ideal! This sword carries the dream I inherited from Kiritsugu! As long as I hold this sword, I hold my ideals!"

The look on Archer's face had changed. The permanent scowl had disappeared. The heavy crease between his eyes that came from his constantly furrowed brow had faded away. The deep lines around his mouth were gone. Every trace of the terrible visage that had haunted the hero Emiya's face was gone.

What remained could only be described as awe and rapture. It was an expression of pure wonderment. It was like giving sight to a blind man who had gone without nearly his entire life. It was like offering absolution to a man wracked with guilt. It was an expression…

Shirou could only call it "exultation."

It changed a moment later to chagrin. As the sword came down and the wave of light and fire rushed forward to consume the knight in red, Archer gave himself a small, rueful smile.

"Heh. Right in front of my nose."

And then, he was swallowed up by the light.

To Shirou, it seemed an eternity as the blast of light, fire, and prana consumed Archer, and then blew out an entire side of the mansion, and still went on to mow down the forest outside. In reality, it all happened in the span of a few short moments. The flash of light, the wall disintegrating, the trees being consumed, and the ground being scorched — it occurred in nothing more than seconds, and then it was over and the glowing blade returned to normal.

"Shirou…"

In the sudden silence of the mansion, Saber may as well have screamed. But Shirou didn't acknowledge her. It wasn't time for that, yet. There was still something to do, something he needed to do to put his feelings about Archer to rest. So he walked over the charred floor to the place where Archer had stood and looked down at the black burn mark scorched into the melted tiles.

"I am the bone of my sword," he intoned, without any of the emphasis required to make it an incantation.

"Steel is my body and fire is my blood."

He had changed, not only from the person he had been before he'd ever even heard of the Grail Wars, but also from the person he'd been the first time through. He recognized that now, and he found in himself the memory of swords he never seen before, and all the swords Gilgamesh had ever unleashed from the Gate of Babylon. More importantly, he knew now that he could recreate nearly every one almost flawlessly.

"I have created over a thousand blades."

And beyond all that, he'd gotten so much from this second chance. He'd gotten the opportunity to see Saber again, to hold her in his arms. He'd had the opportunity to fall in love with her all over again. At the end, just when he'd thought he would never see her again, that time and space and death would separate them until he was reunited with her in Avalon, he had once more gazed upon her beauty and splendor. He knew that he was lucky, that he'd been given a second chance to be with his Saber.

"Unaware of loss."

He knew that he wouldn't get a third.

"Nor aware of gain."

But that didn't matter. He had come farther than ever he could have dreamed. He had ventured down a path that would have been impossible for him otherwise. If he'd had to endure hardships to get there, then all the better.

"Always alone, striving for Utopia."

There was no going back. There was only forward, only the resolve to never look over his shoulder. He couldn't regret meeting Rin and fighting the Grail War. He couldn't regret meeting Saber.

He could never regret loving her.

"I have no regrets," he said solemnly, with all his heart. "This is the only path."

Even if he lived five lifetimes, even if he'd had the opportunity to live an ordinary life, he would always have chosen her. Whatever else had happened between them, she had opened him up to a new world, a world where he had the power to complete his dream.

"My whole life was...Unlimited Blade Works."

The last line echoed out into the vast hall. It was the last line of a eulogy, the last line of a promise made to Archer that he would follow his ideals without backing down and without regret.

It was the last line of a vow.

"Shirou, look out!"

A voice broke into his moment of closure — it was Rin's voice that screamed, just as a series of daggers leapt out of nowhere to strike Saber, who blocked and deflected all of them effortlessly. It was a futile attack that could never have defeated a Servant of such a caliber, let alone injure her.

But she wasn't the true target.

"Zabaniya."

"Shirou!"

He knew because there was a foreign presence, one that smelled of blood and sand, pressing its hand to the back of his chest, right over his heart.

"Delusional Heartbeat."

Something fleshy and soft was violently and noisily crushed, and inside Shirou's chest, beneath his armor, skin, muscle, and bone, his heart was suddenly and viciously destroyed.

It was agony.

It was a horrendous pain that could have crippled an ordinary man by itself, let alone the fact that Shirou's heart had been crushed. It was torture, like his heart had been gouged out of his chest or stuck with a thousand tiny needles. But it was not of the same scale as turning your nerves into a Magic Circuit. It was in no way comparable to the feeling of shoving a burning metal rod in your spine.

Gáe Bolg had pierced his heart once. The cursed spear of the Irish hero Cúchulainn had once lanced Shirou's heart. When he had gone to Kotomine Kirei seeking advice about Saber and his feelings for her, Gáe Bolg had pierced his heart again. Twice, Shirou had suffered a cursed wound that should have ended his life. Twice, he had walked away from it with nothing to show but the spidery scar on his chest.

Avalon was a miracle. Possession of the sheath and a contract with Saber gave him a level of regeneration that made killing him nearly impossible by doing anything less than removing his head from his shoulders.

That was why, despite being destroyed, his heart throbbed in his chest moments after the attack had been delivered. That was why Shirou was able to spin around instead of falling dead to the floor. That was why the figure in black with the skull mask and the distorted right arm wasn't prepared for the golden sword that swung through the air and bisected him.

But this figure in black was also prepared for a counterattack — not from Shirou, but from Saber and even Rin. That was what saved its life, even though Escalvatine still carved a gash up its very naked, very male torso.

The black figure with the skull mask…

Shirou could only call it an assassin. Even though all conventional logic and all his knowledge of the Grail War told him that Assassin was a man in purple samurai garb with a sword nearly as long as he was tall, the figure he was seeing could only be an Assassin.

Moreover, the figure could only be a _Servant_. Reflexes fast enough to dodge Shirou's swing, an unnatural looking arm, a skill that had been activated like and could only be called a Noble Phantasm…

Shirou didn't understand how it was possible — there were seven Servants in the Grail War, and the Assassin he knew had vanished before the confrontation with Caster — but he didn't waste time trying to think of the whys and hows. By the time the Assassin had landed, Shirou had already prepared no less than a dozen weapons in his head.

"Trace…_on_."

With two words, he completed the necessary steps. A rain of swords shot down from above his head and around his body to fall upon the black figure with the unnaturally long, flailing red arm. The Assassin managed to dodge a good portion of the swords, but Shirou had never intended for his rain to kill his enemy. He had never intended to use this storm of weapons to smite the foe who had tried to kill him.

That was because, mixed in with the rest of the swords, there was a set of weapons used by Executors of the Church that were called "Black Keys."

While Assassin dodged most of the rest of the swarm, the Black Keys were targeted more specifically and more accurately — the rest of the rain was a diversion, so when half a dozen Black Keys sought out Assassin's feet and calves, there was no avoiding them. Not without putting himself in the way of a much more dangerous sword.

For a Servant, a sword through the foot would not have been exceptionally debilitating. Servants were not slowed by pain as easily as humans were. But Black Keys were weapons designed with specific functions, not weapons with high attack power. And the specific function they enacted when they pinned Assassin's feet to the floor, then sunk through his calves and embedded into the tile, was "immobilization."

Even still, on a Servant, they wouldn't last long. Immobilizing an entity like a Servant was not something the Black Keys had been designed to do. Assassin's paralysis would only last a moment, a handful of seconds.

It was all the time Shirou needed.

Assassin wasn't able to move, so he wasn't able to stop Shirou, who hefted Escalvatine up, gave a wordless warcry, and cut the black figure in half.

Assassin's earlier escape had only delayed the inevitable.

The blade passed through flesh and bone effortlessly, but Assassin was a Servant. There was a spray of blood that followed the path of the blade, but it disappeared, and so did the body, before it even hit the ground.

Without anything to pin down, the Black Keys that had embedded into the floor faded and vanished. The countless swords that had rained down ceased to exist. With nothing more to fight, Shirou fell to his knees and panted, clutching at his chest where his new heart was throbbing painfully.

"Shirou!" two voices called simultaneously. Two sets of footsteps thundered towards him, one more metallic than the other. In a scant few moments, Saber was at his side, feeling along his jacket for holes and bloodstains. Rin appeared a couple seconds later, hovering around beside him anxiously.

"I'm all right," he told them both.

"Shirou," Saber started worriedly.

"I'm okay," he told her again. "Just…I was surprised, that's all."

Shirou could see from the look in her eyes that she didn't believe him, and on his other side, Rin made a funny sound in the back of her throat that told him that she didn't, either. They had had a much better vantage point to see whatever that Assassin had done, they probably knew better than he did what exactly had happened in that moment, so there was no way they didn't know that Assassin had crushed his heart. And yet, he survived. He had had his heart crushed and walked away unscathed.

He didn't have any excuse to offer to explain his miraculous recovery, he really didn't, and with his mind whirling with so many questions, thinking of one quickly enough to remove their suspicions would be impossible. He had to deflect. He had to change the subject and move it away from his regenerated heart.

"What was that?" he asked Rin. It was the question foremost in his mind.

"Assassin." Rin's lips curled as she said the word, and the narrowing of her eyes let him know that she knew _exactly_ what he was doing.

"But…" He didn't say what was going through his head, about how it wasn't possible that that _thing_ could have been Assassin. "But Caster died last night. Her Assassin should have been long gone — if that was even him in the first place! He was missing yesterday, wasn't he? There's no way Caster would have left a way for him to leave her, so he had to have been killed, right? We talked about how strange it was when we went up to the Temple last night!"

"I know," Rin told him calmly. "But Caster used a loophole to summon her Assassin, and there's no way that thing would have missed the opportunity to kill us last night if it _had_ been the one she summoned. For that matter, Caster's a Servant, so even if she used a loophole to summon Assassin, she wouldn't have been recognized as a proper Master by the Grail. That left room for one more Master, but no Servant for that Master to summon — unless…"

"Unless they somehow removed Caster's Assassin from the War without destroying his spiritual core," Saber spoke up slowly.

"Right," Rin nodded. "It's a pretty complicated thing to do — I don't think _I_ could do it if it came down to it. A loophole like that is complicated and difficult to manage. There are only two people I know of around here who know enough about the Grail system to do something like that, and we can cross Ilya off the list immediately. That means there's only one other person who could pull something like this off."

"Who?" Shirou asked her.

Rin's sky blue eyes were deadly serious and her lips were pulled into a grim frown.

"Matou Zouken."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

**— ****ESCALVATINE**, a name which brings Salvation. Called by this name, the **Sword of Rapture **is the sword which will see the **End of the World**. It is the sword made to bring about the chaos that once existed at the beginning of the world, a sword which shall, at the end of time, save all things by destroying them. It was the sword handed to **Emiya Shirou**, intended for his use until the **End of Days**.

The sword is a Last Phantasm, a Divine Construct crafted by the planet and held in trust by the Fairies before being passed on to Shirou. The sword uses the design of its older siblings, **Excalibur**,** Excalibur Galatine**, and** Arondight**, and as a result, it bears resemblances to those three swords. Fairy Letters have been inscribed upon the blade to show that it is not the work of man.

The sword is formed of the crystallized prayer "Salvation," the sorrowful, desperate, and innocent plea of those who have stared their demise in the face and cried out for a savior, of all men and women, past, present, and future, fully exposed to the fear of death and despair, and whom cling to the desire: "to be saved." It contains within it a shard of the sun, and it has been hardened to the point of invulnerability.

Escalvatine is a weapon of directive energy. It converts the Prana of its wielder into super-condensed fire and light, powerful enough and dense enough to alter space-time, and unleashes it like a blade of solar wind. At full power, unleashed without restraint, everything consumed in the attack is melted and crushed together, and all that remains behind is chaos — a glimpse of the world before Sky, Sea, and Earth were divided, and to which the world will return in Rapture.

The sword's Prana consumption is disproportionately low. Its base attack is still an A-Rank Noble Phantasm attack requiring 150 units of Prana (a consumption equal to six magi). At full power, the sword consumes 800 units of Prana to actualize its attack, energy equivalent to 32 magi.

Escalvatine's maximum attack power is 1000 compared to Ea's absolute maximum of 4000. In a fight, however, the conflicting concepts of Rupture and Rapture will stalemate, but the sword's Chaos cannot stand up to Ea's Truth. Should Ea be unleashed without restraint, then Escalvatine will lose.

— **Escalvatine, the Sword of Rapture**

**Rank: **EX

**Type: **Anti-World

**Range: **1-99

**Number of Targets: **1000

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Got enough twists for ya? To be honest, I was tempted to end the chapter with "Delusional Heartbeat" and let you all stew until the next chapter.**

**Alright, I admit to being surprised. Last chapter got more reviews than any other in this story so far. Good job, guys.**

**Well, this is Chapter 11. I'd say we have maybe…three, maybe four, more chapters until we hit the first ending. After that, another four chapters to fill the first epilogue, then the other ending and the other two epilogues.**

**That's right, folks. This story is nearing its end. I might go back and revise a scene or two to get everything perfect, but everything should be finished before summer (the epilogues are only ~2-3k words). At the latest, I'd say we'll be done in July. Well, provided everything goes smoothly, anyway.**

**Be prepared. We're heading into some Heaven's Feel areas now.**

**Bet you guys weren't expecting another chapter this soon, either, were you?**

**EDIT: Expanded the Archer/Shirou fight a bit.**

_**Unlimited Blade Works!**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	12. Tragedy and Fate

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XII: Tragedy and Fate  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

It hadn't taken them long to get moving after Rin had revealed the probable identity of the strange Assassin's Master, especially once Shirou realized that it meant Sakura could be in danger. Shirou had never met Zouken, not even when he was younger and he and Shinji were best friends. In the Matou house, there'd been no hint of an elderly figure, nor even (after Byakuya died) of any adult at all. He supposed that Zouken had simply hid himself out of the way, for whatever reason.

There was something that bothered him, though.

"I thought you said that the Matou line had dried up, Tousaka!"

Rin grunted. "I said the recent generations!" she corrected defensively. "Zouken isn't exactly recent!"

He supposed she had a point, but he didn't think that a few generations back was all that old, either.

"He's Shinji's grandfather, isn't he?" Shirou asked. "That may not be recent, but it isn't exactly ancient, either."

"I agree with Shirou," Saber put in. "Rin, you said that the Matou line had gone dormant within the last few generations. Should that not apply to Zouken as well?"

Rin let out a hollow, mirthless laugh. "There are mentions of Zouken in my family records going back more than two hundred years." Shirou nearly stumbled. "The person known as Matou Zouken has been alive since the first Grail War nearly three centuries ago."

"But that's…" Impossible was the word he wanted to use, but a glance at the blonde-haired, green-eyed girl next to him reminded him that there were no less than two methods of agelessness that she had possessed — the first had simply been agelessness granted by Caliburn, which had simply served to stop her from aging, while the second had been Avalon, Excalibur's sheath, which had given her a level of regeneration that actually _stopped_ the aging process.

Except…Zouken was an old man, wasn't he? Or was he?

"Shirou," and if she wasn't running, Rin would have doubtlessly assumed her (in)famous lecture pose, "I know you aren't very well-versed in magecraft, so I can't blame you for not knowing, but considering everything else you've seen this past week or so, is it really so hard to believe that there's a way to use magic to extend your lifespan?"

"…No, I suppose not."

"So then," Saber started, "he was alive during the first Grail War? He was a participant?"

Rin snorted.

"It goes a little bit farther than that," she said dryly. "I _wish_ he was just a participant from the first war, but…Matou Zouken, Justeaze Lizrich von Einzbern, and Tousaka Nagato — these are the names of the three founders of the Fuyuki Grail system, with help from Kischur Zelretch Schweinorg. Zouken wasn't just a participant of the Grail War. He _built_ the damn thing!"

This time, Shirou _did_ stumble.

"Are you alright, Shirou?" Saber asked him worriedly.

He mumbled a "fine" and kept on going.

"So if there was _one guy_ in this city," Shirou said, "who knew _exactly_ what to do and _how_ in order to take advantage of a loophole in the Grail system —"

"It would be Zouken," Rin confirmed grimly.

"Damn it."

He wanted to ask why this hadn't happened the last time. He wanted to ask why Zouken hadn't done anything before, when he had been far more ignorant and far easier prey, but of the two girls with him, which one could answer him? Saber and Rin — which of them could tell him the reason why Zouken hadn't been so active the first time through?

So there wasn't any point in voicing his frustrations.

The only answer he could come up with on his own was that he had dispatched Rider sooner this time than he had the first time. That was the only answer that made any sense to him. And if it was true, had he saved those students at the school from one monster, only to spur another one into action?

Damn it all. Why couldn't things have been simpler?

"So…what do we do?"

Rin grunted. It might have been surprise, it might have been anger.

"What do you mean, 'what do we do?" she demanded, half incredulous, half furious. "That slimy old bastard has finally given me a reason to flay his ass alive! I'll tell you what I'm going to do — I'm going to roast his ass on a spit!"

She lanced him with a glare. "And don't you dare tell me we're going to spare him, Shirou!"

…If he was honest with himself, it hadn't really crossed his mind. For that matter, he hadn't really given any thought whatsoever about what they were going to do once they reached the Matou home. All he'd really considered was that Sakura could be in danger; everything else had seemed rather unimportant.

"Don't think that just because this is the first time he's done anything against us that it means that he's not that bad of a guy!" Apparently, Rin had taken his silence to mean that yes, he did intend to spare Zouken. "You've seen how Shinji used to treat Sakura! Do you think that he'd get away with that if Zouken didn't _let him_?"

She made a good point, Shirou thought, but all that proved was that Zouken didn't care much for his family. It made him feel a little indignant about how Sakura was treated, but by itself, it wasn't enough reason to _kill_ a man.

"But still —"

"Shirou," Rin began lowly, with venom, "Zouken just tried to have you _killed_ not too long ago. Doesn't that mean _anything_ to you?"

Shirou blinked and was silent for a moment as he absorbed what she'd just said.

"So you want to kill him," he said slowly, "because _he_ tried to kill _me_?"

Saber made a funny noise that Shirou had never heard from her before. "Rin," she said, "I was not aware that you were so concerned for Shirou's sake. Forgive me for not thinking better of you."

"Of course I'm concerned! Shirou's a trouble magnet! It's like the day's not complete until three different people try to kill him!"

Concerned…? Ah, so he and Rin were officially friends again, then? "It's okay, Saber. Tousaka has a hard time showing people that she cares. Yelling and scolding are just her ways of showing that someone is precious to her."

This time, it was Rin's turn to stumble. When Shirou looked back at her to make sure she was okay, her face was a bright, cherry red.

"I-idiot!" she shouted. "D-don't say something that can be so easily misunderstood! And anyway, it's not just about you, Shirou! There are other reasons why I want to kill him, you know!"

"Other reasons?" Shirou asked.

Rin didn't reply. For a long moment, there was only the sound of their footsteps as they raced towards Miyama and the Matou house located therein. If he didn't know any better, Shirou might have thought that Rin had left them.

But when he looked back again, she was still there, so he decided to ask again. "Tousaka?"

She refused to look at him, and her face, though not as red, was still flushed.

"…just shut up."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The Matou house seemed strangely ominous when they came upon it. Despite the dying rays of sunlight that streaked across the roof and the yard, as Shirou, Rin, and Saber entered the gate, there was an eerie feeling in the air — a sense of being unwelcome, or maybe the thick feeling of hatred and disgust, or even the rotten, roiling stench of decay.

"How are we going to do this?" Shirou asked quietly.

Rin frowned.

"Unfortunately, it looks like it's no longer a possibility to keep Sakura uninvolved in the War," she said regretfully. "It's likely that we'll run across her at some point. The easiest thing to do will be to remove her from the situation — send her to your house or something, Shirou. With Zouken being who he is, I have very few doubts that he'll put up some kind of fight. Sakura _can't_ be in the crossfire, understand?"

"No, I agree," Shirou assured her grimly. "If we can do this without getting Sakura involved, then we definitely should."

"I think your worries are perhaps a bit extreme, Rin," Saber put in. "This Zouken person is still just a human, no matter the extent he's gone to in order to prolong his life. Without a Servant, there should be no trouble defeating him."'

Rin hummed. "I wish I could share your confidence, Saber, but Zouken isn't going to go down that easily. It'd be best if we were prepared for high-level magecraft — this _is_ his home, remember? Attacking a Magus on his own territory is usually suicide."

"I hear what you're saying," Shirou acknowledged, "but I don't think we should have too much trouble. Saber's Magic Resistance is incredible, remember? Nothing Zouken could throw at her should be effective."

"So you _have_ been paying attention after all," Rin mused with a small smirk. "Yes, that's true, Shirou, but even so, the point you made the other night is equally valid in this case — _Saber_ might be immune, but all he has to do is target you and he can defeat her, as well.

Shirou grimaced. "I guess you're right."

They fell into silence as they came upon the front door to the Matou house, which was really more of a mansion. Nothing had jumped out at them yet, no defenses had activated — it was a little unnerving. Shirou was well aware that most Bounded Fields were far more powerful and intricate than the one around his home, so the fact that they hadn't even triggered one yet was a little unnerving.

"You go first, Saber," Rin whispered.

"Right."

Saber reached out, twisted the knob, and pushed. The front door swung open slowly and silently — it didn't creak or groan in the slightest. Beyond, the interior of the house was quiet and still. They waited a moment, the three of them, huddled around the front door and each of them tense and prepared for a sudden spell to crash down upon their heads.

For one long, long moment, nothing happened.

"This is creepy," Rin murmured. "Why hasn't something happened yet? I at least expected Sakura to come to the door when it opened."

Shirou grimaced. The different implications of what could have happened, or even could _be_ happening at that very moment, made him anxious.

"Let's go," he said. "We won't get anything done just standing here in the doorway."

Rin nodded. "Let's go, then. Just be careful."

They entered the house, with Saber in the lead. It seemed as though all the lights had been turned off, which left nothing but the long strips of golden sunlight streaming in through the windows to light their way.

"What all do you know about Zouken?" Shirou asked as they walked.

"Far less than I'd like to, that's for sure," Rin told him. "Most of what I know is limited to the stuff written about in my family's old journals — that he was around in the beginning, that he helped create the Grail System, that sort of thing."

"What does that mean, 'helped create the Grail System'?"

Rin hummed thoughtfully.

"Well," she started, "it worked out like this. Over two hundred years ago, three families came together: the Tousaka, the Einzbern, and the family that we know now as the Matou. The Tousaka family provided the spiritually rich land on which to host the ritual — Fuyuki — the Einzbern created the Greater and Lesser vessels of the Grail, and the Matou family used their specialty to create the Command Seals for the Master/Servant system. The goal, at the end of it, was the Holy Grail, which the Einzberns planned to use to recapture the magic they lost centuries ago."

"Magic?" Shirou asked a little confusedly. Some indignation was swelling up inside of him. The Einzbern were willing to endanger an entire town for the sake of some magic they lost?

"Sorcery," Rin clarified, "or True Magic. The Five Laws. Whatever you want to call it. The Einzbern had the Third Magic, the Heaven's Feel, over a thousand years ago, and somehow, they lost it. They've been trying to get it back ever since."

"And so they built the Grail system," Saber concluded.

Rin nodded. "Yes. The Einzbern constructed the Grail system with the single purpose of regaining what they'd lost. I couldn't tell you what my family or the Matou hoped to gain from it, but even saying so, an omnipotent wish-granting device that's capable of reaching Akasha is a pretty tempting prize all on its own."

So the Einzbern had some super-special-awesome magic, lost it, built the Grail system, and had spent the last two hundred plus years trying to get it back? It seemed like such a colossal waste.

"So where does Zouken fit in all of this?" Shirou asked. He couldn't figure it out. What did Zouken want from the Grail?

"I really don't know," Rin said with a shrug. "I couldn't tell you what he really wants with the Grail, Shirou. Maybe he'll wish back his family's magic heritage. Maybe —"

"Senpai?"

They all stopped. There, having just come from around the corner and staring at them with surprise, was Sakura, unharmed and unworried.

"Is — is something the matter, Senpai?"

Shirou felt his shoulders sag with relief. She was okay. "Sakura."

"Senpai, Saber-san, Tousaka-senpai," Sakura listed them each in turn as she glanced at them. "U-um, did I miss dinner or something?"

"It's nothing," Rin said. She spoke so casually that even Shirou, who knew why they were there, was almost convinced. "We're just here on some business, nothing to do with you —"

"Sakura."

It wasn't Shirou, Saber, or Rin who said it. The voice came from behind her, from the hallway she had just left, and it belonged to the decrepit old man that hobbled towards her with a bald head, hunched back, and gnarled wooden cane. He looked at them with unnatural black eyes.

The instant he gazed upon the figure of Zouken, something buzzed in Shirou's body. It filled his limbs, from his fingers to his toes, and hummed in his ears like a swarm of angry bees. It felt like an instinct, a knee-jerk reaction, to the presence of the crone in front of him, a reaction that said, "This thing doesn't belong."

The old man grinned grimly, a disgusting parody of a smile that twisted his features grotesquely.

"So," he drawled in a ragged, scraggly voice, "the Tousaka heir has finally paid me a visit, hm?"

"G-Grandfather," Sakura whispered.

"That's right," Rin said brusquely. "We have a problem with you, old man, and we've come here to solve it."

"Oh?" the old man leaned heavily on his cane. "But I'm just a poor, decrepit old man. What quarrel could I have with you?"

"I was wondering the same thing myself," Rin declared confidently. "After all, what could Shirou have done to you to warrant your attempt to kill him?"

Sakura gasped. "Grandfather!"

"I'm afraid I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about," Zouken lied shamelessly. "I haven't left the house in quite some time, and these old bones are quite fragile, so attempting to do bodily harm to someone so young and full of life —"

"Your charade is fooling no one," Saber interjected with a fierce look on her face. "How long do you intend to feign ignorance, cur? Are you attempting to deny that it was your Servant that tried to kill Shirou, Master of Assassin?"

The air froze. Sakura looked halfway between anger and horrified surprise. Rin looked somewhat annoyed that Saber had taken the lead. Zouken frowned as his bald brow knitted together.

"…It seems that I made the same mistake as Shinji and underestimated you, Tousaka, Saber, and Emiya Shirou," Zouken said at length. "You have no idea of the scope of my disappointment. My Assassin, who I went to such efforts to secure, eliminated so quickly and easily by the most incompetent magus I have ever seen, next to my grandson, Shinji, that is."

Rin's smile was forced. "Yes, well. A lot of people in this War learned the hard way that underestimating Shirou is a bad idea, even me."

"So it would appear," Zouken agreed grimly. "But that still does not tell me what it is you hoped to find here. Assassin was killed. Therefore, I am no longer his Master. Aside from that single event, a natural thing for two competitors in the Grail War, I have not made any other offensive overtures against you. There is no reason why you should be here, Tousaka."

"Isn't it obvious?" Rin asked haughtily. "I've decided that you've overstayed your welcome, Matou Zouken. I'm evicting you from my territory."

"Oho?" Zouken grinned his grotesque grin again. "I'm afraid I'm not quite ready to leave this town just yet. There are still things I want to do, after all."

"And I don't really care," Rin told him callously. "You see, Zouken, you've made things a bit complicated. Caster used a loophole in the Grail System to summon a Servant for herself — an Assassin, as it were — but that Servant was nowhere to be found when we confronted her last night. We thought that a little strange, but mostly we just counted our blessings."

Zouken grunted. "And what do I have to do with all of this, girl?"

"I'm getting to that," Rin said bluntly. "So, Caster's Assassin disappeared — if he hadn't, then there's no way he would've passed up the opportunity to try killing me or Shirou when we went through the Temple gate. It would've been fine if that was the end of it, but just a few short hours ago, a Servant in black wearing a skull mask tried to kill Shirou — an Assassin. As we just said, Caster's Assassin disappeared, and the only way that could have happened was if he'd been killed. And yet, a day later, an Assassin tried to kill Shirou."

"And somehow, you came to the conclusion that I was the one at fault? Couldn't another Master have simply earned Assassin's allegiance?"

Rin smirked. "To do that, they would've needed to kill Caster first so that Assassin had the freedom to leave her, but Assassin disappeared before Caster was killed. That means that he was killed first, and yet an Assassin attacked Shirou no less than a few hours ago. The only way for there to be two Assassins in the Grail War is if someone took advantage of Caster's loophole to summon their own Assassin using the body of the first without destroying the spiritual core. The person who did _that_ would have to have intimate knowledge of the Grail system, and there are only two people around here who have that kind of knowledge: Ilyasviel von Einzbern…and _you_, Matou Zouken."

Zouken grimaced. "You're very well informed, girl. I see the rumors of your genius aren't exaggerated."

"Of course," Rin said haughtily.

"So you want to kill me because I know so much about the Grail?"

"Of course not. If you'd just left it alone, we wouldn't have come here, but you didn't. You summoned Assassin and had him attack Shirou. You gave me the excuse I needed to come here and evict you."

Zouken chuckled. "I'm afraid," he said as he lifted his cane, "that I'm not going to be defeated so easily. You're out of your league, girl —"

Saber reacted first. If she hadn't, the combination of his body's reaction to Zouken and the tension that had thrummed inside of him since the fight with Archer would have pushed Shirou to act instead. But he didn't. It was Saber who moved as Zouken lifted his cane. It was Saber who rushed forward faster than any human could, it was Saber who lifted her invisible sword, and it was Saber who cleaved Zouken in half. The pieces fell to the floor with a pair of meaty thuds.

That should have been the end of it. Shirou could not say that he was entirely pleased with her reaction, but the humming that filled his chest dulled any sense of indignation or anger.

That should have been the end of it.

But it wasn't.

"How callous of you, Saber," Zouken's mouth moved. In spite of having been cut in half, Zouken's neck craned and he looked up at his killer. "To strike down a defenseless old man…"

"You…"

"That's not…" Rin whispered disbelievingly.

There were no words to describe the impossibility of what was happening, even as bits and pieces of the decrepit, gray skin flaked away and the old man's body slowly disappeared. The sense of wrongness that buzzed in Shirou's ears exploded into a howl, and he stood frozen to his spot as Zouken's wrinkled face twisted into its grotesque grin.

"So easily you struck an old man with intent to kill," Zouken went on. "But I wonder…will you perhaps find it so easy to strike down a _friend_?"

With that last parting shot and an echoing chuckle, Zouken vanished.

A moment later, Sakura stiffened. Her entire body went rigid, her face froze in surprise and terror, and her arms and legs started to tremble. A thrill of dread coiled in Shirou's belly, and he knew, whatever happened next, it couldn't possibly be good. Whatever happened next…

The trembling stopped suddenly. Sakura grabbed herself, hugged herself, fell to her knees, and opened her mouth to let out an earth-shattering, ear-piercing scream. Rancid energy coiled around her and wrapped itself like a cloak about her shoulders and chest. Strips of black cloth danced about her, ephemeral and ghostly, and lashed out at the walls and floor like tentacles.

"Damn it!" Shirou cursed.

"This is bad!" Rin called to him. "Zouken's doing something — I don't know what!"

"Sakura!" Saber cried.

Sakura turned, suddenly and swiftly, to look at Saber. The tips of her hair began to change to a pale, purplish white, and there, all at once, appeared three red-trimmed black ribbons that shot out like lances to strike Saber, who blocked or dodged all of them.

But Sakura didn't stop there. More and more ribbons appeared and lanced out at Saber, who blocked and dodged despite the narrow hallway. The white tips turned into white streaks. The rancid energy turned into a foul, decayed odor more akin to a corpse than a living person.

"Die, die, die, die!" Sakura screamed.

"Shirou, do something!" Rin shouted.

"I'm thinking!" he shouted back.

But it was a lie. His mind was utterly blank. He couldn't think of a way to save Sakura, and the buzzing in his chest and in his ears only made it so much harder to concentrate. He may as well have had cotton for brains, for all the good it would have done him.

"Shirou!" Rin's voice sounded panicked.

"DIE!" Sakura shrieked.

"Sakura!" Saber called.

"Damn it!" Shirou cursed again.

He couldn't think of anything.

He couldn't think of anything, and Sakura was going to die.

He couldn't think of anything, and because he couldn't, Sakura was going to die.

He couldn't think of anything, and because he couldn't, Sakura was going to be killed.

He couldn't think of anything, and because he couldn't, he was going to have to kill Sakura.

He couldn't…

He _couldn't_…

_He couldn't…_

"_Dost thou accept this sword and pledge?"_

"_You entered a contract!"_

" — _Rule Breaker, which negates all magecraft and contracts."_

_Rule Breaker._

"Trace _on_!"

The words were out of his mouth before he'd even considered what he was about to do. His body was already in motion before he'd thought about what he was about to do. Before he'd considered the consequences, before he'd considered the ramifications of his actions, before he'd even considered whether or not it would actually _work_, Rule Breaker formed in his hands, and Shirou plunged the twisted dagger straight into Sakura's back.

Red light poured from the wound and danced all over the half-destroyed walls. Magical energy erupted like a fountain. In a single instant, every magic and contract binding Sakura was cancelled.

A moment later, it was all gone — the light, the energy, all of it — and all that remained was Sakura, who hung like a limp puppet for a second, then collapsed to the floor like a ragdoll.

Rin was at her side in an instant, muttering what might have been a diagnosis and might have been an incantation. Rule Breaker faded from existence like dust in the wind, but the buzzing in Shirou's ears and chest, the sense of wrongness that had bothered him the entire time, did not.

After a short while, Rin stopped muttering and let out a sigh. Carefully, gently, she looped her arms around Sakura's shoulder and knees, and stood up. Like that, with her younger sister held protectively in her arms, Rin turned to him and fixed him with a dead serious stare.

"We need to get her back to your house," she said. Her tone brooked no argument.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They left the Matou house without further delay and returned back to the Emiya compound slowly and carefully so as not to risk hurting Sakura further. Rin insisted that she be the one to carry her sister the entire way back and didn't relent, no matter what argument Shirou or Saber tried to use to convince her otherwise. Rin simply wouldn't hear of it.

The house they came back to was still as quiet as when Shirou and Saber had left in the morning. Miraculously, Fuji-nee was still sleeping in the room that had been set up for her; she hadn't woken up at all.

Ilya wasn't any better when Shirou went to check on her — in fact, she seemed _worse_, if he was any judge. It worried him, but he supposed that there was nothing he could do about it, and when he gave it some thought, it seemed only natural anyway. After all, two more Servants had been killed since he had left her on that futon in the morning.

It hurt, having to watch her like that and not being able to help, but he hardened his heart and told himself that there were still other things to do.

They took Sakura to an empty room and Shirou set up a futon for her to sleep on. Saber hovered helplessly in the background, silent but agitated. He imagined that she was feeling the same way he did, like there was nothing she could do, and she hated it.

"She's sedated for the moment," Rin explained as she set Sakura down on the futon. "I've put her in an enchanted sleep until we can figure out what to do."

Shirou watched her as she tended to Sakura gently and lovingly, the way an older sister should. She made sure Sakura was comfortable, adjusted her younger sister's arms and legs so that they wouldn't cramp while she slept, swept the hair out of her face, and pulled a soft blanket over her body.

"What's wrong with her?" he asked quietly.

Rin frowned and stood.

"I don't even know where to begin," she said with an undertone of anger. It was hotter and more honest than the outraged indignation he'd seen far more often. "I knew it wasn't good. I knew that Sakura wasn't happy in that house, that she was suffering, that something was wrong — but even I never imagined…!"

She sighed and sagged.

"Inside of Sakura's body," she said tiredly, "are a number of worms."

Shirou and Saber both recoiled. "_Worms_?"

Rin nodded. "It's not uncommon for certain types of magecraft to have a physical effect on the body — that's why Sakura, despite being my younger sister, looks more like Shinji's sister."

She looked at them as though she had expected them to be surprised by the fact that Sakura was her sister, but Shirou (and Saber, too, it seemed) had already known. Rin frowned at them both, but didn't comment on it.

"Anyway," she went on, "I thought that it was just the Matou family magic that changed her appearance, and in a way, I was right. The worms in Sakura's body are actually a type of familiar, and apparently, they're Zouken's. I imagine that this is how he stayed alive all these years, by attaching himself to his familiars and inhabiting them while he strung along a puppet body made of his more disposable worms."

"And he did this," Saber asked dangerously, "to _Sakura_?"

Shirou couldn't blame her. He was beginning to feel angry, too — angrier than he thought he'd ever been, even when he found out that Kirei had been responsible for Kiritsugu's death.

Rin nodded.

"The most important worm is here," she rested her finger atop the upper part of Sakura's left breast. "It's either right next to her heart or inside of it, I couldn't tell which. If we destroy that worm, then that should kill Zouken."

And, like that, with a deadly calm, Rin proposed killing her own sister. Shirou suddenly felt incredibly hot, but his chest felt frigid and cold. He was burning up, but he was also freezing. His limbs were on fire, but his heart was frozen. He couldn't find any words to describe exactly what was happening — his head was foggy and blurred, and his mouth couldn't seem to come up with anything to say.

Saber said it for him.

"That would require killing your own sister!" she shouted. "Rin, how could you —"

"I don't like it any better than you!" Rin screamed suddenly. "But we don't exactly have any better options, okay?! The moment she wakes up again, Zouken will try to take control of her! As long as that worm is inside of her, Zouken can keep taking her over like a puppet! The only way to save her, the only way to kill Zouken, is to get rid of that worm, and damn it, we don't have to resources to do it carefully enough to save her life!"

Something wet and hot dripped onto the floor. In the dim light, Shirou hadn't seen it before, but as Rin lifted her head to look at him, as the dying sunlight streamed across her features, Shirou could see the tears that were rolling down her cheeks in spite of the resolved expression on her face.

"The only way to save Sakura," Rin's trembling voice gave her away, "is to kill her."

The silence that fell was deafening. Shirou wanted to say something, he wanted to refuse her, tell her that there had to be some other way, but her eyes shimmered and her lip wobbled and his mouth wouldn't work. In his head, numerous Noble Phantasms popped up and offered themselves for use, but he dismissed all of them as powerless to help him.

All but one.

_Gáe Bolg, the Barbed Spear that Pierces with Death_.

No matter how desperately he refused it, Gáe Bolg remained firmly rooted in his head. It wouldn't go away, it wouldn't leave him, because he knew, deep down in his heart, that it would be the weapon he would use to save Sakura.

There was nothing else to use. There was no other choice. Zouken had to be killed. If they left him alone, he could do far too much damage using Sakura as his host. If they didn't kill him, then he would kill them, and there was no telling exactly what sort of evils he would unleash upon the world in his quest for the Grail.

The only option, the only thing they could do to prevent Zouken's monstrosity from being unleashed upon the world, was to kill him. The only way to kill Zouken was to destroy the worm that was his core. The only way to destroy that worm was to destroy the part it inhabited. That part was Sakura's heart.

For such a task, the only weapon feasible was the spear that always pierced the heart.

He hated himself. He hated that he would have to do it. He hated that there wasn't any other choice, but…

"There's no other way?" he asked reluctantly, hating himself with every word.

Rin's head drooped, and he pretended not to notice it when she sniffled. "No."

Shirou felt cold. The room felt cold. With a single word, Sakura's fate had been decided. With a single word, the fact that Sakura was going to die became unavoidable. With a single word, Shirou became an executioner.

And still, the alternative was even more ghastly.

Shirou sighed. The hammer in his head cocked back and fired.

"Trace —"

"Wait."

It was Saber who said it. She looked at Shirou with a hard, meaningful stare.

"There is another way," she told him.

Rin wasn't amused. "Sakura is going to die, Saber. Don't — don't say something like that when it isn't true. We have to destroy that worm, and there isn't a way to do that without killing Sakura! So —"

"Shirou," Saber cut her off, "we can save Sakura's life. Please, if you care anything for her, then you cannot keep it a secret any longer."

Rin turned to him with a look of betrayal on her face, like he had purposefully not mentioned this earlier, but Shirou honestly didn't know what Saber was talking about.

"Saber," Shirou started, "I don't —"

"The sheath heals any wound," Saber told him solemnly.

Shirou froze. His mind wound back and played her words over and over again. In the bubble that was his inner world, a golden light rose up and formed into a magnificent sheath that glowed with "Utopia." Its name, history, function, everything about it, appeared in his mind's eye.

"Yes," he said simply. He didn't bother to wonder how it was Saber knew he had Avalon. He didn't care. All he cared about was that it was a method of saving Sakura. All he cared about was the fact that it would allow him to save Sakura.

He looked at her. He looked at Saber, squared his features, and said, "Let's do it."

She strode over to him and pressed one hand against his chest. "Then you bring it forth, Shirou," she said, "and I will give it form."

He nodded, let out a breath through his nose, and closed his eyes. "Trace, _on_."

In his head, the image formed. Avalon, the Ever-distant Utopia. The golden sheath of the sword, Excalibur, which healed any wound, no matter how severe, and protected the life of King Arthur. Name, history, function, concept of creation, manufacturing process — it all appeared in his mind's eye. He could see it as clearly as if he had gazed upon it his entire life.

This was the one thing he could never make a mistake on.

The golden sheath, Avalon, had been a part of Shirou's body since the moment of his birth — since that fire, the blaze, the conflagration that destroyed so many lives, that moment where the person "Emiya Shirou" came into existence, Avalon had been a part of his body. He knew its shape and form as well as he knew his own hands. There was no way it would be anything but perfect.

"It is done."

Shirou opened his eyes. There, Saber stood, and cradled in her arms was Avalon, perfect and golden. For a moment, Shirou missed it. For a moment, he missed the perfection that had been inside of him just a moment ago. The ideal that Saber strove towards, the ideal that Shirou strove towards — for a moment, he missed its presence in his body.

And then, he remembered that it had been engraved into his heart and his very being. Even though the sheath was gone, its image, its memory, and the ideal that it represented all still existed inside of him.

"So that's how you healed so quickly."

The moment was broken. Rin was gazing upon the sheath with understanding and a bit of wonderment.

"Avalon, the sheath of King Arthur's Excalibur," she said. "An artifact said to heal any wound, no matter its severity. Heh — with an artifact like that, there was no way I was ever summoning Saber, was there?"

"With this, we can kill Zouken without killing Sakura," Saber said. She didn't bother answering Rin's question — it was mostly rhetorical anyway, Shirou figured.

"Right," Rin nodded. "That thing only works with your Prana, right? Then we'll need to create a pass between you and Sakura after we put it in her — Shirou, you can recreate Gáe Bolg, right?"

Shirou blinked. "Yeah."

"Then hurry up," she commanded. "Trace Gáe Bolg. The sooner we get this over with, the less likely we are to have Fujimura-sensei walk in on us. I'd rather not have to explain all of this to her, and it'd be a hassle to hypnotize her again."

Shirou grimaced. Yeah, even if they did hypnotize her, Fuji-nee would flip out about everything, first. That would alert the entire neighborhood.

So then…first, he would have to Trace Gáe Bolg.

"Trace, _on_."

The red spear appeared in his head.

Under ordinary circumstances, he'd simply pull the image from Unlimited Blade Works — that was how Archer did it. It was faster and easier and far less draining, and it resulted in a somewhat flawed image, but Shirou had to have perfection in this instance. If he screwed anything up, then he might make a mistake in the process of destroying Zouken's worm. If that happened, then things could get worse than they already were.

So, he needed a perfect Gáe Bolg, a perfect recreation.

Judge the concept of creation.

Visualize the basic structure.

This spear would be piercing Sakura's heart. There was no point making it less than perfect. It had to be the epitome of what "Gáe Bolg" was. It had to be indistinguishable from the original. No mistakes. No flaws.

Duplicate the component materials.

Match the original craftsmanship.

For Sakura's sake, it had to be the best work he'd ever done.

Sympathize with the experience of its growth.

Reproduce the accumulated age.

Excel every manufacturing process.

The image became reality. A heavy weight appeared in Shirou's hand, and when he opened his eyes, there it was — the red spear, Gáe Bolg, the lance of the Irish hero, Cúchulainn.

Rin was looking at him. Saber's cheeks were a little flushed, and she and Rin had propped Sakura up so that he had a clear target. The thought made him briefly sick, and a small part of him wondered why he was the only one who seemed bothered by the fact that they were going to be stabbing Sakura with what was usually a sure-kill weapon.

"Are you ready, Shirou?" Rin asked solemnly.

Shirou nodded. He hefted the spear, and suddenly, the air froze. The tip vibrated, and the entire lance came alive with a horrid, cursed malevolence. Shirou hardened his heart. He knew what he had to do. He knew what must be done in order to save Sakura. Even if it hurt him, even if he hated himself for the rest of his life, he knew what he had to do.

"Gáe Bolg!"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Warned you, didn't I? Some Heaven's Feel territory.**

**So, I got 5 rather nasty anonymous reviews ("Flames," as they are called in fanfiction) last chapter by someone calling themselves "iluminious" or something like that. Don't bother going to look for them — they've been deleted. If they'd had any grounds, I might have left them up, but they were just a waste of space, and the person who left them has **_**obviously**_** never read the VN, nor has any idea how the Nasuverse actually works.**

**To be specific, one point the reviewer brought up was "Caster's teleportation takes 1-2 seconds." That's a fallacy. Logically, we could say that, yes. But as far as the Nasuverse is concerned, Caster's magic (the "High Speed Divine Words" skill) is done with the speed of a Single Action. A Single Action spell takes less time than a One Liner, by how much, I'm not sure (but I'm betting "half"), and a One Liner takes **_**one second**_**. According to Nasu, anyway. **

**Another point brought up was Shirou's incompetence. And I admit that this reviewer did have **_**something**_** of a point about it. But Shirou isn't Rin. Rin, if she'd been shunted back in time, would've remembered all the important details and changed everything she wanted to change, but Shirou is Shirou, and Shirou isn't a **_**genius**_** like Rin is.**

**As for how I know this reviewer didn't read the VN…Well, they said that Shirou's inner monologue in Chapter Six about time-traveling and respecting the pain of those who'd died was OOC, and I took most of that monologue directly out of the VN. So you can see why I know just how ignorant that reviewer was.**

**Now that that's all out of the way, which ending do you guys want to see, first? Good or Normal? I admit, I originally planned to start with the Normal end, but I'm going to leave it up to you guys. Poll's in my profile.**

_**That's why I'm here.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	13. The Path You and I Walk

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XIII: The Path You and I Walk  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

In the end, the gambit was successful and everything turned out as they'd hoped; Sakura survived, Zouken was gone. And despite that...

Shirou was not ashamed to admit that he didn't sleep well.

No, that was an understatement.

Shirou was not ashamed to admit that he had been plagued by nightmares most of the night, the majority of which consisted of either Archer taunting him for his failures or the multitude of things that could have gone wrong when he, Rin, and Saber had tried to save Sakura.

Trying to save Sakura had been incredibly risky; Gáe Bolg was a spear designed to kill, so much so that it reversed causality in order exact its curse of impalement. It was a weapon whose only purpose was murder, a spear that always struck the heart. The damage it did was almost guaranteed to be fatal, and only someone with the sort of luck Saber had could avoid that sure-kill strike once it began.

Using a weapon like that on Sakura in order to save her from Zouken was insanity. It meant that she would die, no matter what. Her heart would be pierced and shredded. The only thing that had saved her was Avalon, the miracle that had so many times saved his own life.

But even with Avalon, there were so many things that could have gone wrong. A single miscalculation and Sakura would have died. A single mistake would have made Shirou a murderer, and worse, the murderer of someone he considered family. All it would have taken was a mistake in transplanting Avalon, a mistake in making the pass between Saber and Sakura, or a single miscalculation in getting rid of Zouken, and it would have meant Sakura's death.

Those possibilities had dogged his sleep. Those possibilities had transformed into nightmares that refused to leave him be. His dreams became a whirling kaleidoscope of horror and terror and despair.

The worst of the dreams, the ones that twisted Shirou's heart the most, were the ones where Sakura woke up as he used Gáe Bolg on her, and her eyes would widen, filled with hurt, betrayal, utter empty hopelessness, and crushing despair, just as the spear pierced her chest and destroyed her heart. She would scream — not loud, echoing screams, but silent, breathless screams that never left her mouth. She would scream, and he would have to watch, completely helpless, as he killed her in order to save her.

And then he would wake up in a cold sweat in the dark with her silent screams ringing in his ears.

The other nightmares that really got to him were the ones where Sakura just didn't wake up at all. The terrifying red spear, Gáe Bolg, would thrust into her heart and do its job, only _too _well; the strike that was supposed to kill only Zouken killed Sakura, too. Then, Rin and Saber would look at him as they all realized what had happened, as they all realized that he had killed her, that Sakura was dead, and that it was Shirou who had done the deed.

In some ways, the horror and betrayal on their faces as they looked at him were worse than the fact that Sakura had been killed.

That was how Shirou woke up that morning: tired from the troubled sleep, dogged by a worried conscience, and dragged down by lingering doubts as the remnants of a nightmare played in his ears. It didn't matter that he knew how the situation actually _had_ played out, that Sakura had been mostly fine (and Zouken-free) just minutes afterwards, his mind still played endless back-and-forth what-if games as though it were determined to drive him crazy.

Not even Saber's warmth beside him, nor the lingering smell of vanilla in his nostrils as his eyelids fluttered open, dispelled the horrors that had flitted through his mind in the midnight hours.

He lay there like that for a while, trying to drive the nightmares away with nothing more than sheer force of will as the stripes of sunlight grew longer and brighter, but when, what must have been an hour later, that elusive peace still evaded him, he decided to give it up and just get out of bed.

He was careful not to rouse Saber as he untangled his arms and legs from hers; there was a moment when she rolled over and murmured something as he was standing up, but when she did nothing else, he breathed a sigh of relief and brought the blanket back up to her shoulders. He would have felt bad about disturbing that peaceful little smile on her face.

Shirou dressed quietly, and mused about how strangely at ease he was with the idea that Saber could wake up and see him at any moment. That nervous modesty that he'd had — where did it go? What had changed between them that he was so comfortable with baring his body to her?

After dressing, he decided that he might as well go prepare breakfast, so he opened his door, took one last lingering glance at Saber's peaceful little smile, and shut it behind him.

The next thing Shirou did was check in on his guests. Ilya and Sakura were peacefully asleep, and were it not for Shirou's own knowledge of what had and was happening to their bodies, he might have thought it completely natural. But Ilya was filled with no less than five Heroic Spirits; her body was falling apart on the inside, deteriorating, decaying — she would doubtlessly sleep through the day, and then the next day, and the day after that until the War was over and the Grail had been manifested and used (or destroyed).

Sakura…well, Sakura had just had her heart systematically destroyed and regenerated. Just the day before, Zouken had tried to possess her and would have undoubtedly killed them all if he'd succeeded. With the degree of mental and physical trauma she'd suffered, she might just sleep as long as Ilya did.

And the worst part of it all was that he couldn't do anything for either of them.

Fuji-nee's room proved empty, so Shirou figured that she must have left sometime the night before. No doubt, she'd panicked about oversleeping and had thrown herself out the door as quickly as she could, screaming her head off about how late she was.

When Shirou entered the living room, however, he discovered that he was not the only one who was already awake.

"Good morning," Rin greeted from the table. She took a sip of the tea in her hand.

"Good morning," he responded, more on reflex than on intention.

"I stayed up all night watching Sakura," Rin offered as an explanation. Shirou could believe it — there were faint rings of purplish-black under her eyes from lack of sleep. She took another sip. "She's doing well, all things considered."

Some of the tension that had followed him since he'd woken up dissipated.

"That's good," he said. "I have to admit, I was kind of worried."

"I don't blame you," Rin told him sympathetically. "I'd be surprised if you got much sleep either — _I_ certainly couldn't. All I got was a few minutes here and there while I was watching over Sakura. Nevertheless, at her current rate, Sakura should make a full recovery by noon, if she hasn't already."

She gave him a tired but triumphant smile. "We did it, Shirou. Zouken's gone, and Sakura will be fine."

He couldn't stop himself from smiling, too.

It put most of his worries at ease. Hearing that Sakura would be fine, hearing that their plan had worked and all of their troubles with Zouken were over — he had to admit, it was like a load had been removed from his shoulders. It was like an invisible burden had been weighing him down and had just been lifted.

"Well," she went on when he didn't say anything, "I suppose that only leaves Lancer, doesn't it? One more, and this whole thing will all be over."

"Yeah." He strode past the table and over towards the kitchen. "Mind if I cook this morning?"

"Go ahead," she waved him off. "If I tried to cook, I'd probably fall asleep in whatever I tried to make."

"Thanks," he called over his shoulder. He grabbed some pots and pans and started pulling ingredients from the fridge. Technically, Rin's turn had been yesterday, and today was Sakura's turn, but as Rin had been held hostage when it was her turn and Sakura was in no condition to cook right then, he would be cooking for the third day in a row.

No, wait. That was dinner. They alternated cooking dinner. Right. So Rin would probably decide to cook dinner to make up for missing it the day before (he'd cooked because Rin was practically glued to Sakura's side, and in the end, only he and Saber had actually eaten).

"So, tell me, Shirou," Rin said casually. There was a pause where he imagined her taking another sip of her tea. "How does it end?"

"How does…_what_ end?" he asked distractedly.

So, rice was a staple, not only of Japanese cooking, but of the Japanese diet. Trying to have breakfast without rice wouldn't work out too well, especially since Saber and Fuji-nee ate so much of it.

"The Grail War," she said matter-of-factly, with an unspoken 'duh' tacked onto the end.

If he'd been walking, he would've stumbled. That actually would have been nicer than what actually happened — his right knee jerked forward and slammed painfully into the stove. His knee burst into pain like an exploding star, lances of agony that shot up and down his leg, and though it certainly had nothing on turning his nerves into makeshift Magic Circuits, it wasn't exactly fun, either.

He groaned. There was no Avalon to give him instant healing this time.

"Geez," Rin said, and though she didn't laugh, her voice certainly gave away just how _funny _she thought it was. "What a reaction I got from you!"

"Tousaka," he moaned.

"Don't worry, I haven't told anyone," she said with what he imagined was a dismissive wave of her hand. "But really, it seems so obvious when I think about it now. I mean, there were so many _signs_ — the way you'd react to the most random of things, the way you seemed to know about certain stuff but were so oblivious to other stuff…I'm surprised I didn't realize it sooner. But I suppose that when someone is acting strange, your first thought isn't 'time travel,' is it?"

The pain in Shirou's knee throbbed, but the worst of it had subsided. "Tousaka —"

"No, don't tell me," she demanded before he could really start. "It's better if you don't tell me what's going to happen so that I don't screw anything up. If you told me anything, I'd be too tempted to change it, so it's best if you don't tell me anything at all."

Wasn't that the entire point, though? Hadn't he been trying to change the events of the Grail War using the knowledge he'd gained from his first venture through it? With that kind of opportunity…why would Rin give it up? The chance to change the future, the chance to reroll the dice, this time in your favor…

It was a heady temptation.

"Tousaka," he started.

"Anyway," she cut him off again. "What are you planning on doing now, Shirou?"

He sighed and gave up. Rin really was a rather stubborn girl.

"I'm going to take Saber out on a date today," he admitted calmly.

Now...Now, the only enemies left were Gilgamesh, Cuchulainn, and Kotomine Kirei. He had only a few more days remaining until he had no other choice but to fight them, only a few more days until he had to say goodbye to Saber — for good, this time. There would be no third chance, and even if it was offered, he had already decided he wouldn't take it.

Nearly all of his other memories of her, even the ones he cherished dearly, were tinged by the urgency of battle and conflict. Even if it was only this one, he wanted a memory of them as normal people simply enjoying each other's presence.

So, he had to take it. This day of freedom, this day where nothing else would interrupt them, he needed to take it and enjoy it with Saber. If he didn't, then he would regret it for the rest of his life.

There was a moment of silence. The laughter Shirou had expected didn't come.

"I should probably laugh," Rin began, "but I imagine you did something like this last time, right?"

"Yeah."

"And I laughed then, didn't I?"

"You did."

"Then I won't laugh this time," she concluded succinctly. "If you're serious about this, Shirou, then I give you my blessings."

He wasn't exactly sure what to think about that. "Um, thanks."

"It's no problem." He could imagine her shrugging. "I actually kind of like you guys. And I'd have to be blind and deaf not to notice how compatible you two are and how well you get along — how many times have you woken up snuggled together with her in the morning?"

Shirou flushed and stiffened for just a moment — an involuntary reaction — but that was all Rin would need to know that she had hit the nail on the head.

"That's what I thought," she said. "It's kind of strange, though. Saber, being the kind of person she is, I expected her to be pretty uncomfortable with that sort of thing."

To be honest, so had he, but up until that morning when she had asked to simply lay in bed together, he couldn't be sure she'd ever known that he had snuggled up to her in the middle of the night. He wanted to believe that she had, that she had willingly and knowingly allowed it to continue for whatever reason, but…

But if he was wrong, then…

At that moment, the living room door opened. Shirou glanced over his shoulder — it was Saber, dressed in her usual clothing and looking as though she had slept rather soundly. At the same time, Saber glanced at him and met his eyes, and he saw her lips twitch as though she were recalling some fond memory and holding in a smile.

Then, the moment passed, and Shirou turned back to the breakfast he was cooking.

"Good morning," Saber said politely.

"Good morning," Rin greeted back.

"Morning, Saber," Shirou called out to her.

"Sakura is still asleep, then?"

"She is," Rin answered. "Her condition has improved tremendously, but I don't think she'll be waking up again for another few days. Her body and mind both need time to come to terms with what happened to her yesterday."

"I see," Saber said neutrally. "And Ilyasviel?"

"Won't wake up for a while," Rin replied succinctly. "She'll probably sleep through the rest of the Grail War, and to be honest, that's probably a kinder situation for her to be in than if she were awake."

"You're probably right," Saber agreed. "Ilyasviel is the vessel for the Grail, so it cannot be especially comfortable to carry the power and energy of five Heroic Spirits inside of her body. Yes, it's for the best that she remain asleep for now."

Shirou made one final adjustment to the last dish, then turned off the stove. Breakfast was ready.

"Saber," he glanced back over his shoulder at her, "could you give me a hand with these plates?"

"Of course, Shirou."

After a quiet "Itadakimasu," breakfast was eaten in silence, as usual. It was something that Shirou took pride in, the fact that no one wanted to distract themselves from his cooking with small talk. It was intensely gratifying to know that people liked it that much.

The only time anyone said anything was when Shirou mentioned Fuji-nee's absence, which was a bit strange, because she absolutely loved his cooking and practically refused to go a day without it. Rin gave him a short, quick answer — Fuji-nee was busy up at the school, where the police investigation had finally concluded and the teachers were meeting to discuss plans to fix the damage and reopen classes.

If Shirou were honest with himself, he'd forgotten about the issues up at school entirely. So much stuff had happened in the past few days that it had, quite naturally, slipped his mind. Well, it wasn't especially strange, he figured. The Grail War was taking up a significant portion of his time and concentration, so it wasn't like it was odd that he'd forgotten all about school and the fact that he would inevitably have to go back to it.

"Alright, then," Rin said once everyone had finished. "You two have a busy day to look forward to, so I'll take care of the dishes, okay?"

Saber, who had reached for her dirty plate as she started to stand, stopped. "A busy day?"

Instead of answering, Rin turned to look at Shirou and quirked a little smile. That was supposed to be his cue, he supposed, so he cleared his throat a little.

"We're going on a date," he stated clearly and concisely.

Saber's brow furrowed and she slowly set her plate back down on the table. On the other side, Rin looked as though she were enjoying the latest episode of her favorite drama.

"A date," Saber repeated flatly.

"A date," Shirou confirmed unflinchingly.

There was a moment of silence as Saber frowned and seemed to mull it over in her head. He had no idea what she was thinking about, nor what she would say when she finally finished whatever thought was foremost in her mind. If he had to hazard a guess, on the other hand, then he was willing to bet that she was going over the pros and cons of spending the day out in town.

…Which was a bit strange, now that he thought about it. Last time, Saber hadn't even known what a date was. How did she recognize what it was this time?

Rin, on the other hand, seemed to take her silence as a lack of understanding of the term.

"A date," she began with her infamous lecturing pose, "is like a sort of rendezvous, where a man has the chance to —"

"I know what a date is," Saber said a little impatiently. "I was merely considering the advantages of doing such a thing today."

Rin blinked, but didn't let it deter her. "It's not about strategy," she started. "It's about a man appealing to a woman —"

"Very well," Saber interrupted again. Rin looked flustered that she had been cut off twice. "Yes, there are many things that we must discuss today, Shirou, so I will go on a date with you."

Shirou grimaced. He supposed that talking was one of the things you did on dates, but it was usually about likes, dislikes, interests, and that sort of thing, wasn't it? You talked about serious stuff, but only as it pertained to getting to know the other person.

From the feeling he got, Saber wanted to talk about the War. She wanted to talk about the stuff they hadn't really discussed the day before, when he'd revealed Escalvatine and Sarras to her.

Well, he _had_ promised…

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

They left the house in silence. Rin hadn't seen them off — she was still stewing after having been interrupted by Saber twice in the span of a minute. Shirou led the way, but Saber said nothing as she followed him, not even to ask where they were going. He figured that she was probably waiting for him to choose a place for them to sit down and talk, but damn it, that wasn't what he'd planned for the day.

It was supposed to be a _date_, where he treated her to food, took her places she might enjoy going, bought her things she wanted, and things like that. He was trying to earn her affection, not discuss the reasons why he had made the choices he made recently.

Absently, he realized that he had gone in the wrong order. Sex and sleeping together was supposed to come _after_ you started dating someone, not before.

"Let's head to Shinto," he said to the open air. "We'll take the bus from the intersection."

"Very well, then," Saber agreed quietly.

The road was silent and abandoned but for them and their footsteps, but Shirou still couldn't help feeling somewhat tense. It wasn't anything Saber did or said, necessarily, just that he felt like things weren't going his way and everything he had tried to plan for this day was falling apart around him.

It was supposed to be a _date_. Today was supposed to be about Saber just…enjoying herself, forgetting about the trials and tribulations of the Grail War, forgetting, for one day, that she was a warrior and a king.

It was supposed to be a day where he could forget the War, forget Gilgamesh, forget Kirei, and the Grail, and all of the other things that could, at any moment, intrude on their lives. It was supposed to be a day where he could forget being a hero and an ally of justice and all those other things that came with it.

It was supposed to be a day where the two of them could just be a boy and a girl out on a date.

_Damn it,_ he wasn't going to let the Grail War or his own stupidity ruin this.

He spun around and grabbed a startled Saber by her shoulders. Her mouth fell slightly open and she blinked up at him incredulously.

"Shirou —"

"Today," he told her firmly, "we're going to forget about the Grail War and everything else and we're just going to have fun! We can talk later — now, we're going out on a date!"

"O-of course!" She said the words as though on reflex, because they were higher and more emotional than Saber usually got, but Shirou decided to take what he could get and let that settle things.

They got on the bus shortly after, and Shirou steered her towards the back — aside the driver, they were alone. As little as an hour ago, there would have been plenty of others, but they were alone, and Shirou was simultaneously thankful and unnerved by the silence as they sat down.

The bus lurched into motion and started towards Shinto. Shirou and Saber remained in silence — what was there to say? He wanted to say something, but every time he opened his mouth, his mind went unhelpfully blank.

It didn't help that Saber was staring wordlessly out at the passing scenery. In the morning sunlight, her figure was haloed in gold. Every time he turned to her, he was reminded of both that first night, when he had first gazed upon her, and of those last moments on the hill where she confessed her love for him.

His heart thudded loudly in his chest, and he wondered at how Saber didn't hear it. His pulse was like peals of thunder in his ears. His mouth was suddenly painfully and conspicuously dry.

In the chaos of the Grail War and everything that was involved therein, he kept forgetting just how beautiful she actually was, how her hair seemed woven from golden silk, how her eyes glittered and shone like emeralds, how her skin was as pale and smooth as porcelain. He had forgotten just how much she had captivated him that first night, when he first laid eyes on her.

The announcer jerked him from his thoughts with a simple declaration — the next stop, Shinto station, was coming up. They would be arriving shortly.

In that case, he should probably have some idea of where he was going to go. Last time, he'd basically taken Saber to all of the places he thought she might like (most of which were places that he thought girls liked), and it hadn't turned quite like he might have intended. In fact, Saber hadn't seemed to enjoy it much at all, with a few notable exceptions.

Well, the one place he would _definitely _take her was the stuffed animal store. She'd taken quite a shine to that little lion plush toy, and he certainly didn't want to lose the chance to see her pick it up again. It was one of the moments where Saber had seemed the most human, like a regular girl rather than the Servant and warrior she had always tried to be.

They stepped off the bus and into the crowded station roughly half past nine o'clock. The station square was packed with people; it was after nine o'clock on a weekday, but the station square was as crowded as it ever got on the weekends. Oddly, Saber didn't look nearly as uncomfortable as she had the last time, and Shirou couldn't help wondering why, exactly, that was, but it wasn't important, so he took her hand in his and led her towards their first destination.

The first place they went was to a bowling alley, and after quietly equipping themselves with a pair of bowling shoes each, Shirou picked a moderate-sized blue ball from the rack and handed it to Saber, then picked a similar red one himself.

"Shirou," she began, examining the bowling ball curiously, "what is this?"

"It's a type of game," Shirou explained patiently. He led her over to the lane that had been set up for them. "The objective is to knock down all ten bowling pins by rolling your ball down the lane."

He pointed at the red-ringed white pins standing in a triangular formation on the other end of the lane. "Each player gets ten turns and two tries per turn. At the end, the person with the highest score wins."

Saber stared down at the bowling pins, absently rolling her ball around in her hands as her brow furrowed in thought.

"So," she said slowly, "it is a competition, then."

Shirou smiled and chuckled a little as he registered their names into the computerized scoreboard.

"_Friendly_ competition," he corrected. "The objective of the game is to win, but it's supposed to be fun, not intense."

"I see," she said. She looked down at her blue bowling ball and frowned at it thoughtfully. "And how exactly do you roll this ball down that lane? Is there some sort of special method or technique?"

"Kinda, but it's a bit hard to explain." Shirou stepped away from the scoreboard and up onto the wooden runway that stood in front of the long, shiny, waxed bowling lanes. "Here —watch me."

Shirou turned away to face the white bowling pins, slipped his fingers into the three holes, and corrected his stance, then took three quick steps forward, cocked his arm back, swung it forward, and let go of his ball. It spun and landed loudly on the bowling lane, then rolled swiftly towards the pins with a roar not unlike thunder.

The crash of the bowling pins being knocked down was a unique sound — the thud of wooden bokkens smashing together was similar, but still altogether different.

It was a strike.

"There are three holes in the bowling ball," he explained as he turned back to Saber. "You put your thumb in one hole and your middle and ring finger in the other two. The rest is just momentum and wristwork."

"I see," Saber nodded.

"So, I just rolled a strike —" his red bowling ball rumbled up the return mechanism "— which means I don't go again until my next turn."

"Which means it's my turn," she concluded. "Very well, then."

Her first roll wound up rather mediocre — at the end of her first turn, she'd managed to knock down only seven pins in total. Her second turn was only a little better, but by her third, she got a perfect strike. Shirou didn't do nearly as well as she did after his spectacular first roll, and it was only belatedly, three games later, as he watched the scoreboard display her nearly perfect score for the third time in a row, that he realized that she probably had some sort of advantage as a Servant that he as a human didn't have.

_Game on_, he thought, consumed by a rare competitive spirit.

The fourth game, Shirou won. He cheated, of course, by using Structural Grasping to understand the build of the lanes as he threw his bowling ball, but when he looked at how narrowly he came out on top when the final score was tallied, he felt that it wasn't necessarily unfair. He'd just…leveled the playing field, so to speak.

Like that, an hour passed, and Shirou, half amazed, wondered how it all went so quickly.

"So, did you have fun?" he asked as they left the bowling alley.

"Yes." She said so quietly, in a voice that is half wonder and half pleasant surprise. "I cannot recall having ever played such a game before, but I cannot say that I didn't enjoy it. It was...quite fun."

Shirou couldn't stop the smile. "That's the point," he told her. "Games are supposed to be stuff you enjoy doing. If you don't have fun, then there's no point in playing."

Saber gave him her own serene little smile.

"Yes, I see," she said simply. "In that case, Shirou, I did enjoy going 'bowling.' I cannot say I would be adverse to going again sometime."

The second place they wound up visiting was the aquarium he'd taken her to the first time, and he wasn't disappointed at her reaction. He took a secret pleasure in the look of wide-eyed wonder on her face as she gazed at all of the different creatures of the sea that swam above and around her.

"I know that this is unnatural," Saber said with a whispered sort of childlike awe. "Creatures that once swam wherever they desired, stripped of that precious freedom and trapped here for the amusement of those who visit..."

Her right hand started to rise, as though to reach out through the glass and touch one of the silvery fish that flitted about above her, but fell back down to her side.

"I know that this is unnatural," she repeated, "and yet, I cannot help but think it is beautiful as well. For some reason, even though it is unnatural, it is also so very compelling."

This time, her hand _did_ reach towards the ceiling. "It is strange, the difference between imagining it and seeing it with one's own eyes..."

The look on her face was one of wonder and amazement, like someone who had been blind her entire life and only now had been granted sight. It was the look of someone who had just discovered how wonderful and amazing the world actually was, the miraculous beauty of what lay in wait just beyond reach.

It was a look that suited her, he decided. Saber, who had sacrificed her humanity for the sake of her kingdom, was regaining what she'd lost in the service of her people.

Most of the second hour was passed wandering around the aquarium, visiting specific exhibits and generally exploring all it had to offer. Shirou could imagine that she hadn't seen most of the creatures on display — for her, the ocean was always an obstacle to cross, and it invariably brought enemies to her country. Taking the chance to see exactly what the world under the water offered would never have been a very high priority.

Oddly enough, not once did Saber let go of his hand while they walked. Oddly enough, not once did she seem to feel as though it were entirely unordinary.

It was strange, and a little off-putting, to see Saber acting like it was the most natural thing in the world to hold his hand in hers. Not that it wasn't welcome, it was just…strange.

After they left the aquarium, the next place they went was for lunch — even though it hadn't left him entirely satisfied the last time he'd visited, he picked the same restaurant Rin had recommended the first time through and sat down across from Saber (who flushed and seemed only then to realize just how long she had been holding his hand the moment he let go). He picked it because he remembered that Saber liked the tea.

They ate their lunches rather silently. Every now and again, he or she would comment on the flavor or express satisfaction or dissatisfaction with one thing or another, but generally, they didn't really talk while they ate. If he were honest, Shirou preferred it that way — he was sure that if he had tried to hold a conversation, he would have been distracted rather often by the grace and magnificence with which Saber carried herself, as well as the radiant beauty of her face haloed in the late morning light that streamed in through the window.

As he watched her, he couldn't help thinking that this was the way she should live. She was a warrior, a king, a fighter, a Servant, a hero — she was all those things, but she deserved to be a woman, too. She deserved to have peace and contentment, a life where she didn't have to fight and kill and sacrifice herself.

And wasn't that what he was fighting for in the first place?

After lunch, he led her towards the stuffed animal store, and he had to admit that he was a bit disappointed when she didn't react quite as spectacularly as he thought she would when they finally stepped foot inside. He expected her to look surprised and overwhelmed, but all he got was the surprise, and even then, it wasn't nearly as dramatic as he'd expected it to be.

Once the surprise melted away, it turned into something resembling melancholic nostalgia.

"This is…"

It was said in such a quiet whisper that it was nearly lost in the sea of voices that surrounded them.

But he still heard it.

"Yeah," he said lightly. "This is the biggest stuffed animal store in town. I don't really come here, though, because it's a sort of unspoken rule that men aren't allowed."

As if to reinforce that fact, every girl within his sight was glaring at him as though to forbid him from entering their sanctuary. Shirou thought it came across as a little ridiculous — yes, it was a place for girls to hang out without worrying about guys, but what happened when a guy wanted to buy a stuffed animal for his girlfriend? Was he just supposed to send his mother in to buy it for him?

Ridiculous.

"So," he went on, "is there a particular animal you like, Saber?"

He asked the question, but he already knew the answer. Again, though, as he had known since the very beginning, there were some things that he couldn't pass off as his father's teachings, and even though he planned to tell Saber about his time travel later, at this point, he wasn't going to complicate it like that.

"Lions," she said a little distantly. Her eyes were only half-seeing as she gazed around the store. It was like she was reliving a cherished memory. "I must admit to having a particular fondness for lions. Do you think that's strange, Shirou?"

He didn't quite laugh, but he couldn't help the smile. "Of course not," he said. "I think it suits you, actually."

She blinked and looked over at him.

"How so?" she asked him curiously.

"Well, lions are considered very regal, aren't they?" he explained. "People tend to think of lions as sort of the royalty of the animal kingdom, right? So I just thought…as a king, you'd appreciate that a whole lot more than most people would. It's sort of…things that are similar tend to attract one another, right?"

"I see," she said softly. "Yes, I think you may have a point, Shirou."

They continued on through the store, but as they were going, more and more Shirou started to notice that Saber seemed to be gravitating towards the collection of stuffed animals containing the plush lion toy she'd taken a liking to so much last time. It was strange, and if he didn't know any better, he might have thought that she already knew where to go.

Even still, it was nearly three hours later when they finally left the store. The plush toy that Saber had chosen — it was, in fact, the exact same model that had caught her eye the last time, too — was tucked snuggly in the backpack he'd bought on their way out. On the western horizon, the sun was beginning to set.

After a rather long day, it was about time to go home, so they turned towards the bridge and started walking. The wind picked up as they went, and Shirou had to stop himself from staring at her several times so that he didn't trip over his own feet. It seemed like the World was going out of its way today to remind him just how beautiful Saber was as many times as it could.

Suddenly and without warning, Saber stopped and looked out over the river and the bay beyond it. Shirou stopped, too.

"I had forgotten," she murmured to no one.

"Saber?" Shirou asked. He glanced out over the water — there, piled up so high that it jutted out of the river, was the remains of the ship Saber had destroyed in the Fourth Grail War.

"In the chaos of everything else that has happened, I had forgotten," Saber said a little louder.

"About the ship?" Shirou clarified.

She turned to him. All trace of good humor had vanished, and the happiness that had sparkled in her eyes throughout the day when she'd enjoyed something was entirely gone. In many ways, the expression on her face was not unlike the calm, indifferent one she wore in battle.

"I know," she told him flatly and without ceremony.

Shirou's heart fluttered nervously. "Huh?"

"I _know_," she repeated.

"Know _what_, exactly?" he asked. He tried to stop his heart from pounding as his imagination conjured a hundred different things that she could be talking about, but the one that was both his greatest fear and which would bring him the greatest relief was that she knew of his time travel.

"Everything," she said. "The Grail, Kotomine Kirei, the fire ten years ago, the orphans trapped at the bottom of the Church…"

She trailed off and looked away, out into the harbor and the dying sun that colored the water a brilliant golden yellow.

"I know," she said with deliberate slowness, "that you have already seen the end of this War."

Shirou swallowed around the lump in his throat and forced himself to speak. "That's how you knew I had Avalon."

She nodded. "Yes."

A hundred different things that he hadn't really paid any attention to before popped into his head. Suddenly, all of those little things that he hadn't bothered to think about, those little, tiny inconsistencies that he'd written off before, came together and formed a picture.

"That's how you knew that there were still three Servants left," he realized. "That's why you didn't want Ilya to go to Kotomine's church. That's how you knew what I was going to make you promise before our last fight with Berserker…"

"The bond between Master and Servant allows them to peer into the other's past in their dreams," Saber explained quietly. "As I slept by your side, Shirou, I dreamed of the Grail War you fought. I saw the terrible things that occurred, the horrible events that you could not stop no matter how hard you tried. I saw the Grail and its tainted curse, and you fighting through that curse with nothing more than sheer force of will."

She smiled, then, the same radiantly beautiful smile she had graced him with atop that hill.

"I saw us fall in love together," she whispered.

"Saber…"

He wasn't sure exactly what to say or what to do. He wanted to reach out to her and take her hand or hug her, but in the end, he couldn't force his arms to move, and he just stood there stupidly until her expression hardened again.

"I no longer seek the Holy Grail," she told him plainly. "Nor, indeed, do I have a wish to make upon it. I will still fight as your Servant, and I will support you until the end, but I have no desire to make a wish nor any wish to make. And so, Shirou, I relinquish the promise you made to me at the beginning of _this_ War — you no longer need concern yourself with fighting for my sake."

She smiled again. "But you will anyway, won't you?"

"Of course," he said. As though there was any other option. "You told me once that I was your sheath, Saber. Just because you haven't said it yet doesn't make it any less true."

"And I am yours," she added. "Even if the day should come when you no longer need my assistance in combat, please rely on me. So long as you do, I shall never leave you."

— _Always alone, striving for Utopia —_

He couldn't help the smile. How much of an idiot he'd been. To think that he'd actually believed that his path was a long and lonely one. That was wrong. The fact of the matter was…

He was never alone.

He'd always had _her_.

"I'm so stupid," he said with a careless laugh.

Saber blinked. "Shirou?"

"In the process of going back in time, I forgot the most important lesson I learned the first time," he said wistfully. "Geez. I really am a bonehead."

He sighed, but he couldn't stop smiling, even when his cheeks started to hurt.

"I forgot how to put all of my faith in you, so I tried to do everything by myself," he told her. "And because I tried to do everything by myself, things wound up the way they did."

Saber being forced to use Excalibur, Ilya capturing him, Archer's betrayal, Caster stealing Saber's contract, Zouken summoning Assassin…It all happened because he'd tried to do everything on his own. If he'd had help, if there'd been someone to collaborate with and help him do everything that needed done, then none of those things would have ever happened.

"It is you who taught me that we should never regret the past, Shirou," she began quietly. She stepped forward and placed one small, dainty hand over his heart. "There is no need for you to lament the effects of your mistakes. If the burden becomes too heavy, then I shall help you carry it."

How stupid he'd been. Hadn't he said it to her himself at the very beginning of the War? This was a partnership. Master and Servant were just terms — they were together, equals with equal input. Trying to carry everything by himself was a mistake.

He wouldn't make it again.

He brought his hands up and placed them over hers. He bowed his head, closed his eyes, and focused the entirety of that moment on the warmth of her hand and the pleasant feelings of _belonging_ and _love_ that filled up his chest. Like that, he let out a slow, even breath, and with it, all of the pain and regrets that had been piling up on his shoulders for the better part of the last two weeks.

The past was the past. They were mistakes, but he would learn from them. He would not forget them, but he would not regret them. There was no going back. The only path was forward.

And Saber would walk it with him.

— _Never alone, striving for Utopia —_

Shirou's eyes opened slowly and he looked into Saber's. "Then you know what we have to do."

She frowned and her hand dropped. He let his fall, too.

"The church," she said softly.

"We'll have to destroy it," he said. "Kotomine, Lancer, and Gilgamesh will all be taken care of at once."

It was a ruthless strategy that would systematically annihilate the three remaining enemies in the War. Uncomfortably, Shirou realized that it was a strategy akin to something Archer might suggest, and it was clear from the look on Saber's face that she didn't like the idea of being so underhanded about it. If he were honest, Shirou didn't either.

But it was their best option.

Between the two of them, defeating Lancer and Gilgamesh in a straight-up fight was not an impossible idea. Shirou had his new sword, and if he used it on Gilgamesh before he could unleash Ea at full power, then defeating even the King of Heroes was possible. Saber could defeat Lancer as long as Gáe Bolg wasn't used, and if she got Avalon back, then even that dreaded spear would be ineffective.

Which reminded him; they should check up on Sakura when they got back.

But even with the advantages they had, it wasn't a sure thing. Gilgamesh was still a superior enemy, and he could rain Noble Phantasms down on Shirou faster than Shirou could charge Escalvatine to full strength. Lancer didn't need to hit Saber; he just needed to kill Shirou, or else use that flying spear to destroy them both at once.

And the worst was Kotomine, who could very easily screw everything up.

The best option was the simplest one: destroy the church. With the church gone, so, too, hopefully, would be Kotomine, Gilgamesh, and Cúchulainn, and at the very least, Gilgamesh's source of Prana, the tortured, half-dead orphans, would be gone, too, and finally put to rest.

"I understand," Saber said with a grimace. "I cannot say that I like it, Shirou, but I understand the necessity. That church is a place of great evil. If it is to be cleansed, then it should only be us who take up that burden."

Shirou nodded.

"We'll take care of it in the morning," he promised. "The light will be less noticeable that way, especially if we get there early enough to do it as the sun is rising. If we're lucky, we'll get all three of them at once. After that, all we need to do is have Rin show us where the Grail is, and we can take care of that, too."

Saber shook her head. "We may not have the chance for that, Shirou. By that point, Ilyasviel will have manifested as the Lesser Grail, and we —"

"Destroying the Lesser Grail is only a temporary fix," Shirou interrupted. "It's in one of those books Rin gave me — destroying the Lesser Grail will end the War, but it'll just start up again. If we want to dismantle the whole system, we need to destroy the Great Grail. The only problem is that the pages detailing the Great Grail's location were missing from the book."

A look of understanding passed over her face.

"Rin," Saber caught on. "She did not want to risk your taking advantage of the knowledge, so she made sure to remove anything from the books that would give you such a significant advantage."

"Which is why we need her," Shirou concluded. "I'm pretty sure she probably knows where it is, so with Ilya out cold, we'll have to rely on her to take us to it."

"And with the Grail system dismantled," Saber said quietly, "all the Servants summoned under it will return to their proper places."

"Yeah," Shirou nodded. "So even if we don't get Lancer and Gilgamesh —"

"Including me," she whispered. Shirou stopped cold.

He'd forgotten.

_How_ had he _forgotten_?

At the end of the War, when the dust had settled and it was all over, Saber would return to that hill, that moment of her death. When the Grail disappeared, so would Saber. There was no future for her there, and there was no future where they could remain together. Saber would return to her own time, and Shirou would have to remain in his.

She could not stay.

He could not follow her back.

Inevitably, they would be separated.

And he had _forgotten_.

He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

He already knew. It wasn't a matter of wants or desires. Saber couldn't choose whether or not she would return to her own time. When the Grail vanished, so would Saber.

It was fact. There was no changing it.

"It's all right," Saber told him quietly. "Shirou, this is a fact we have faced before. We cannot allow it to trouble us."

He couldn't stop the smile that spread over his lips.

This girl…

She was amazing.

"Come on." He held out a hand. "We'll worry about the fine details later. For now, let's go home."

She smiled back at him and took the hand he'd offered with one of her own. "Yes," she said simply.

Without saying another word, they crossed the rest of the way across the bridge and went down into the park. The sun had set while they were talking, and somehow, it was already eight o'clock. Everyone was inside their houses, eating dinner or preparing for bed, so the park and the streets were empty as they went.

They traveled slowly — they were in no rush — and as Shirou enjoyed the warmth of her hand in his, he thought that he had most certainly been embarrassed by it the last time through. But then, this time, he'd made love to this girl, he'd slept with her by his side. Compared to that, holding her hand was so tame, and yet so intimate, that it really didn't measure up.

What was there to be embarrassed about?

Tomorrow, he was going to have to say goodbye to this girl. At least for now, he could enjoy the moment. At least for now, nothing could interrupt this precious happiness that he would remember for the rest of his life.

"And just where do you think you're going, Faker?"

Everything froze. Shirou felt Saber's grip on his hand tighten, even as his grip on hers squeezed down.

Nothing could interrupt it…except the greatest threat in the entire War.

"You shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."

Shirou looked towards the voice and met a pair of cruel red eyes.

Gilgamesh.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Originally, this chapter was going to be a whole lot bigger, probably doubly so. But then, I received some advice from a friend of mine, and I decided to cut it in half so that I could finish it sooner. That's why it's a little bit shorter than usual.**

**In other news, I'm going to make an E-Book out of this story once it's all over, complete with a Table of Contents, a Front Cover, and maybe even a Back Cover. When and how it'll be available for download will be specified at a later date. Included at the end will be a "Word from the Author," and which should contain, at the very least, all of the vitally important parts of the Author's Notes from all the chapters. If needed, there might, in fact, be multiple editions, but the most recent should always be available.**

**One more chapter, and then the first ending.**

_**Everything I've done…has been leading up to this one moment!**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	14. Victory Must Be Grasped

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XIV: Victory Must Be Grasped  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

The happiness that had bubbling up inside of Shirou's chest froze. His entire body became taut like a spring, and the buzzing that had howled about Zouken's unnaturalness came back tenfold. The small, feminine, callused hand that held his squeezed down tightly.

Gilgamesh.

The possibility had always been there. Shirou had always known that Gilgamesh could show up to interrupt their date. Not once had he been foolish enough to think that it couldn't happen. The problem wasn't anything like that; the problem was that he'd forgotten about it all in the joy of spending time with Saber.

"I kept you waiting, Saber," Gilgamesh said in that haughty voice of his. "But even so, I have come for you now, just as I promised."

The tension in the air was so thick it could have been cut with a knife. It kept Shirou rooted to his spot, and no matter how much his brain told his arms that he need only to reach back and unsheathe Escalvatine, his arms refused to follow. There was something indescribable that kept him frozen, a fear — a knowing — that one wrong move would spell the end.

He had to be careful.

Gilgamesh was not an enemy he could simply overpower.

Gilgamesh was not an enemy he could fight recklessly.

He was not the hero Emiya, who Shirou could defeat by proving his ideals were stronger.

He was not Cúchulainn, who could be swallowed in a sea of gold fire and defeated thus or overwhelmed by the spear of his predecessor.

He was not Medea, whose magic could be defeated with a properly strong attack or who could be outwitted by clever deception.

He was not Heracles, who could be defeated in one blow by Caliburn.

He was not Rider, whose Pegasus could not defeat Excalibur.

Fighting Gilgamesh evenly wasn't possible. The wrong move would mean Ea's unleash, and the wrong move then would mean even Shirou's own sword being defeated by that monstrosity.

The only way to fight Gilgamesh was to surprise him too quickly for him to react properly. Any other course of action would mean total defeat.

"What's wrong, Saber?" Gilgamesh's voice was all arrogance and haughtiness, and it had an unrelenting sneering quality. "I came here especially for you. Remaining silent in the face of such graciousness is rude — or are you so overwhelmed that you cannot even speak?"

He laughed at his own joke. It wasn't funny.

"Shirou," Saber whispered urgently, "I will only be able to block his first attack. In that moment, you must retreat and leave this place. Even if you were to stay beside me, against an enemy such as this…this is all we can do."

Shirou's heart felt cold. "You want me…to leave you here?"

It shouldn't have been surprising. She'd done much the same last time, and he hadn't listened then, either. She should know that. She should know that there was no way he was going to just run away and abandon her.

But she asked anyway. Why…?

The realization stuttered to life in his brain. It hit him suddenly and without warning.

They didn't have Avalon.

Avalon was still back at the house, resting inside of Sakura and healing her ravaged body and mind. The only defense they had against Gilgamesh's Ea, the only defense they had that could have protected them from the power of the Star that Split Heaven and Earth, was currently beyond their reach.

But he could still Project it. He could still Trace a copy of Avalon into existence and they could overwhelm their foe like that. With the right timing, even Ea would be repulsed, and Gilgamesh would either be defeated or forced to retreat. Saber should know that. She should well know that it would be well within his abilities to make a copy —

And that was it, wasn't it? She did know. She knew and she still wanted him to leave. She knew and she wanted him to retreat because…because she couldn't guarantee his safety. Without him to provide her Avalon, she would be defeated, but for her, the possibility of his injury was far worse than the prospect of her own defeat.

Because he didn't have Avalon, either.

Which meant that he would die if he was killed. There was no miracle to stitch his body back together, no divine power to regenerate mauled and ruptured organs or shattered bones. If he was injured, he would stay injured. If he was dealt a fatal blow, he wouldn't be getting back up.

She wanted him to leave because she didn't want him to die. In exchange for her own life, she would save his.

…Too bad. He wasn't going to accept that.

He had prepared for this. He had spent the entirety of the Grail War getting ready for this. Everything he'd done, all the things that had happened over the past week and a half, it had all been leading up to this moment.

This was it.

There was no going back.

Ignoring everything else, Shirou stepped in front of Saber protectively.

"Shirou!" she hissed at him. "There is no other option. You must run!"

"Oh, that's right," Gilgamesh said so lightly, as though he had just remembered an insignificant fact. "You have a Master, don't you? To be honest, he's so shabby that I thought he was a dog or something. Well, no matter…"

His arm began to rise. The pad of the thumb and middle finger pressed together; in a moment, when they reached the intended height, they would slide together and the middle finger would snap with a click against the thick flesh where the thumb joined with the palm. At that moment, the Gate of Babylon would open and a weapon would be unleashed.

"Saber," Shirou said quietly; his hand wrapped around Escalvatine's hilt, "do you remember, you asked me why I would make a contract for that sword? The answer is —"

"…there are plenty of ways to keep a Servant in this world without a Master."

"— so I can fight _him_!"

Escalvatine came unsheathed with a ring as a single sword — a nameless existence whose future legend Shirou was unfamiliar with — shot out of the Gate of Babylon. The air was rent with two shrieking howls — one a high-pitched whistle, the other a ghostly wail — and the two swords crashed against each other with a deafening _clang_.

Escalvatine continued on and came to a stop as Shirou completed his swing. The sword that had struck it, the sword that had been aimed to maul Shirou's body, shattered like so much glass.

There was no competition. A nameless E-Ranked Noble Phantasm could never compare with a Last Phantasm designed specifically to weather time and the elements to witness the end of the world.

"Oh?" Gilgamesh's eyes narrowed. "It seems that your Master might not be quite as worthless as I first estimated, Saber."

Around him, beside him, above him, countless ripples tore apart the air and spat out swords, spears, and innumerable other weapons, all Noble Phantasms. The Gate of Babylon opened wide for its King and provided for him every treasure he had ever collected.

"But the King only has _one_ equal," Gilgamesh went on. "No one else is allowed to stand before him without fear of reprisal."

But Gilgamesh did not know. He did not understand that revealing his Treasury was a mistake. He did not realize that every weapon he revealed to Shirou became Shirou's. Every Noble Phantasm that passed through the Gate of Babylon was recorded in its entirety in Shirou's Reality Marble.

In his arrogance, Gilgamesh only made Shirou more powerful.

The smartest decision would be to pull out Ea and simply blast them away. Sure, Shirou could Trace Avalon if he had enough advance warning, but Ea could punch straight through anything else. If it was timed right, there would be no escape.

But Gilgamesh was arrogant. In his arrogance, he refused to use his best tools to wipe out the competition. Because he refused to use his best tools, he invited only the opportunity for his enemies to plan his defeat.

"If you'd been a good dog and lied down," Gilgamesh said cruelly, "I might have been merciful enough to spare your pathetic life. But I don't take kindly to those who willfully tarnish my treasures, as you have just done. Destroying one is _unforgiveable_."

In the sky around his body, even _more_ Noble Phantasms appeared. Shirou's mind whirled and had some difficulty keeping up with the sheer numbers on display. It was a torrent of swords, spears, and weapons, held back by a dam that was on the verge of breaking. There would be no mercy once they were let loose.

The finally tally came up to fifty.

Shirou gritted his teeth and flipped on his Magic Circuits, then fired up a matching number of Projections to combat the wave that would soon be upon him. It was not the largest number of Projections he had ever done at once — that honor went to his first skirmish with Archer by the lake after Caster had been killed — but it was still a lot.

"Now —"

"Trace…"

"DIE!"

"…_on_!"

One hundred weapons flew through the air — fifty came from the Gate of Babylon and fifty appeared in the air above Shirou's head. They collided in the space between and clashed with a cacophony of ringing steel, a sound more befitting an ancient battlefield rather than Fuyuki's park. It was a miracle that no one heard them, a miracle that they remained undiscovered in spite of the terrible noise they were making.

It was a conflict that had never been seen before in history, a clash that transcended time and space. Noble Phantasms from all sorts of different eras collided and clanged. Sigurd's Gram, Cúchulainn's Gáe Bolg, Lugh's Gáe Assail, Merodach the Original Sin, Perseus' Harpe, Dainsleif, Claiomh Solais, Gáe Buidhe, Gáe Dearg, Durandal, Joyeuse, Cortana — weapons from all across myth and legend were appearing all at once and being used against one another.

In an instant, it was all over. The clash of legends and legendary weapons had lasted only the span of a few short seconds. Shirou and Gilgamesh were both untouched, but the concrete around them had been gouged and torn and was littered with craters and the remnants of some of Gilgamesh's treasures. The swords that Shirou had created either vanished or had been destroyed in the clash.

All trace of humor had left Gilgamesh's face. In its place was a scowl, a deep and dark scowl that radiated his murderous intent. But he composed himself. Against all of Shirou's expectations, Gilgamesh managed to refrain from shouting and screaming about mongrels and destroyed treasures.

"I see," he said in a deadly serious voice. "So then, it was not a fluke that you managed to defeat that Archer. I can see now why he would have lost to you. For a wretched fake, your technique is exceptional."

The air behind him glowed, and yet more Noble Phantasms came from inside the Gate of Babylon. It wasn't just fifty, this time. The numerous weapons that poured forth from the Gate had to number at least one hundred, and there were still more that were slowly appearing. It would be a rain, a torrent, a flood of Noble Phantasms. There was no point in trying to create a counter flood — the sheer numbers that would be required were ridiculous, and Shirou wasn't sure he could Trace that many fast enough to be of any use.

So he'd have to do like Saber did and deflect them with his own sword.

…That was stupid.

Saber was a Servant and he was just a Magus. The difference in skill levels was too big. The idea that he would be able to deflect that many Noble Phantasms all by himself —

But he wasn't. He wasn't all by himself. He had Saber with him. Hadn't he just realized, not more than an hour ago, that trying to do everything by himself was a mistake?

"Saber," he said quietly, "I need your help."

There was a moment of quiet. Then —

"Yes, Shirou?"

"There's no way I can block all of those myself," he began, "so I'm counting on you to get as many as you can and leave the rest to me."

There was no need to say it — Saber would be blocking the majority. Even _she_ couldn't get them all, however, so Shirou would still have to block some of them himself. But it should be enough. It was not something an ordinary human should be able to do, no, but Shirou wasn't an ordinary human.

"…Very well, Shirou," Saber said with some reluctance. She stepped up beside him. At some point, he didn't know when, exactly, she had summoned her armor. "I will block as many of his Noble Phantasms as I am able, and I shall trust in you to handle the remainder."

"But an imitation is still an imitation!" Gilgamesh declared with a grandiose gesture of his arms. "So I will _destroy you_ with the original!"

The next moment was a flurry of motion as the hail of Noble Phantasms streamed forth from the Gate of Babylon. Shirou could barely make out Saber slicing as many from the air as she could, but he couldn't focus on it for more than a single instant because the weapons that she couldn't block came for him and it took every single ounce of his strength, speed, and the fractured remnants of Saber's skill he had gleaned from Caliburn to knock them all to the side and away from his body.

Escalvatine became a blur of gold and silver. Shirou's arms protested and his chest ached as his lungs begged for air. Every bone in his body rattled with each collision of his sword with one of Gilgamesh's treasures. Shirou ignored it all, ignored the feverish dizziness that lit up his brain as he forewent oxygen in order to maintain his speed. The moment he made a mistake was the moment he lost.

And then it happened. Shirou finished his swing and started to swing around again when something came for his unprotected side faster than he could deflect. It happened too quickly for him to block it, too quickly for him to do anything but feel the thrill of shock in his belly and perform a hasty Reinforcement of his body and clothes, and slammed into him like a hammer.

Because it _was_ a hammer, Shirou realized as his body flew. The weapon that had hit him was a hammer of some kind, gigantic and too large for any save Heracles to hold it comfortably.

He landed with a thud. His entire left side was numbed from the pain, but miraculously, nothing had been broken. The blow had only been intended to defeat a regular human, so Shirou's last second Reinforcement had dulled it enough to reduce the damage to a bruise, but it had still knocked the air out of him.

_Damn it_, the thought came as he wheezed. He had to get up. He didn't have time to lie down and catch his breath. Saber was —

"I spared your life on a whim," Gilgamesh said haughtily. "Ordinarily, I would have killed you for damaging my treasures, but keeping you alive is the least troublesome method of maintaining Saber's form. Stay down, dog, and I'll let you live."

"Shirou!"

Saber tried to run to him, but a single Noble Phantasm streaked across the distance and landed in front of her before she could make it more than a few steps.

"Who are you running to, Saber?" Gilgamesh laughed. "That mangy dog is no longer any concern of yours, so there isn't anyone left to interfere. He is not the one you should be running towards."

Saber turned away from Shirou and glared at Gilgamesh. Her grip on her sword tightened so much that he could hear her gauntlets creak under the strain. Still, she didn't move but to square her feet to give her stance more balance and stability. Shirou wheezed and tried to stand, but his diaphragm was still convulsing haphazardly, and without the ability to breathe properly, all the strength had been sapped from his limbs.

"Oh?" Gilgamesh arched an eyebrow. "So you won't come to me, will you? But why? Surely someone like you must understand just how extraordinary it is to have me deem you valuable."

"The past ten years have not been kind to you, _Archer_," Saber spat. "It seems you have forgotten that I have already rejected your advances once before, and your arrogance has only become all the more stifling. Nonetheless, I shall refresh your memory and say it again. I am a _king_. It is _impossible_ for me to submit to you."

"Oh?" Gilgamesh chuckled. "But you are still a woman, even if you are also a king. It should be the greatest joy in the world to be chosen as my bride — to be held down and violated at my leisure. So why is it that you refuse? It is not as though you are a _virgin_, after all."

It was an insult. Shirou could recognize that even through the haze of pain and lightheadedness that made it so hard to think. Gilgamesh probably said it as an argument for why Saber's refusal was unnecessary, but Shirou, who understood Saber best, knew that it was the worst insult Gilgamesh could have spewed at her.

One of the most important things Shirou had learned over that first time through was that the one thing he absolutely could not do was step on Saber's pride. Saber was a king, and she had a responsibility to her people. She took pride in those things, and so telling her to abandon them was one of the gravest insults one could spout at her.

That was why Saber's scowl and the fire in her glare grew hotter and darker. "_You_…!"

"Your resentment is pointless," Gilgamesh told her. "I have already promised you that I will give as much as I take. Did I not already say that I would lay upon you every pleasure in this world, if only you submitted? Every treasure to be had would be yours, because I have deemed you to be so valuable. You should rejoice."

He spread his arms wide in an all-encompassing gesture. "You do not need to sacrifice your life, nor must you return to that hill. All you need do is submit to me, and I will give you _everything_. So I'll say it once more, Saber. Be mine."

"You…" she seethed. She caught herself, took a calming breath, and met Gilgamesh's smile with a calm stare. "You have only grown more delusional since last we met, Archer. I refuse. The things you offer are of no interest to me, but even more than that — _you_ are of no interest to me, Archer. Of all the things you have offered, living with you is the least appealing."

Gilgamesh's arms dropped, but rather than get angry, he tilted his head back and laughed. Shirou struggled to his hands and knees, but could yet make it any further up. His breathing was almost back to normal, but it was still difficult and erratic enough that he couldn't stand and join the fight again.

"Perfect!" Gilgamesh cried happily. "Yes, _that_ is the woman who has so bewitched me! There must be at least one who refuses to obey me!" The laughter subsided, but the exultant grin on his face remained. "Then I shall do it by force. After I obtain the Grail, I will bathe you in its contents, and together, we shall enjoy our second lives upon this earth. Rejoice, Saber, for you will not need your Master then. You will become as I have, a full, flesh and blood body."

"Not on your _life_!" Saber kicked off the ground and towards Gilgamesh, who merely tilted his head to the side and materialized his armor. Lazily, he blocked her first strike by crossing his arms over his head and letting his golden armor take the blow.

Saber didn't seem surprised that her first attack was blocked — of course she wasn't. Saber wasn't seriously trying to defeat Gilgamesh, she was just buying time. She was buying as much time as she could to let Shirou recover, because she was aware, just as he was, that there was no way for her to beat Gilgamesh by herself without Avalon.

Saber struck again and again. Like lightning, she slashed at Gilgamesh, who stood and accepted it all without budging. Sparks flew, magical energy bleeding off of Saber's sword that ignited under the heat and pressure. The golden plates that served as his armor didn't so much as dent under the onslaught.

That was only natural. Anyone who had watched Gilgamesh like this before would naturally assume that his Noble Phantasm was his armor; that was how strong his armor was.

Again and again, Saber attacked. Her brilliant sword crashed and clanged against the golden plates and neither one gave. That was only natural, too. If Saber were seriously trying to kill Gilgamesh, there was no way she would have tried something that she knew could not have hoped to work.

She was buying time.

_Come on_, he urged his body. He needed to get back into the fight before Gilgamesh pulled out that impossible _thing_ he called a sword.

Again, Saber attacked. Again, her sword bounced uselessly off the golden armor. No matter how hard she swung, no matter what spot she struck, her sword was ineffective against the impossibly strong defensive power of Gilgamesh's armor. It was almost like fighting Berserker again; nothing she did so much as fazed her enemy. After one last swing, she threw herself backwards and away.

And then, at last, at the very moment that Saber broke off her attack, the strength returned to Shirou's legs and he could breathe properly again. He stood and brandished Escalvatine at their enemy as Saber landed deftly beside him — Gilgamesh looked only slightly annoyed, as though a fly that he had thought crushed had returned to buzz about his head.

"Oh, it's you," he said carelessly. "It seems you have decided to squander my generosity, dog. I promise you that I won't extend it a second time."

Behind him, the Gate of Babylon opened up and Gilgamesh reached back into it, grasping the golden hilt of a cylindrical sword.

It was time.

"Get back, Saber," Shirou ordered.

"Shirou," Saber breathed, "you mustn't…!"

"Just trust me!" he said. The sword in his hands began to glow as he flooded it with Prana. There was no holding back, this time. With Archer, he hadn't attacked with anything approaching full power. This time, he couldn't afford to do that. He had to unleash everything — everything except the Anti-World attack.

There was no telling what kind of damage _that_ would do in the middle of the city.

"It seems bad taste to use this sword against such a pathetic mongrel!" Gilgamesh called over the roar of Ea charging up. The wind around them was consumed by the three swirling segments that glowed red with power. "But I will give you the honor of dying by my most valuable treasure, the sword that only I, the King of Heroes, am worthy of possessing!"

"Everything that's happened until now," Shirou began; he was talking to Saber, not Gilgamesh, "all of the choices I've made, all of the mistakes I've made, every promise I've kept and every promise I've broken, all of the good and all of the bad…it's all led up to this _one_ moment! Saber! This is —"

"Enuma —"

"— _why I'm here!_"

"— _Elish!_"

Escalvatine swung down, Ea swung forward. A golden wave of light and fire so hot and so powerful that it could melt steel and distort space-time met a spiraling blast of red-pink energy so powerful that it could tear apart the fabric of reality. Two unstoppable forces collided and crashed against one another, screeching and howling and pushing back and forth. Rapture and Rupture clashed.

In practice, Gilgamesh's Ea was the stronger weapon. It was forged from a fallen star under a system that existed before the World existed. If he had unleashed the full extent of Ea, including the Truth from before the World was separated from Heaven, then even Escalvatine would have been defeated.

But Gilgamesh's weakness was in how much he underestimated his enemies. He would never have used Ea's full power against Shirou, nor even against Saber. That was because he was assured in his superiority and felt that neither of them were worthy of being obliterated by his greatest treasure's maximum attack.

That was why, when Rapture met Rupture, neither attack budged. The power output was skewed in Escalvatine's favor, but the battle between the conflicting concepts stalemated. With one last, impotent sputter, both died away and vanished, and all that was left was the trench gouged into the concrete between Shirou and Gilgamesh.

There was a moment of silence. The look on Gilgamesh's face was _priceless_, Shirou caught himself thinking. Uncomprehending, stupefied _surprise_. Disbelief that anyone or anything could actually match him, could actually stand up to his greatest treasure. Disbelief that his sword, the sword that only the King of Heroes could possess, had actually been forced into a tie, a draw, a stalemate.

Because for Gilgamesh, that was as incomprehensible as outright _defeat_.

After that long moment of silence, the surprise melted away and became white hot anger.

"You…" Gilgamesh seethed. His face had become a terrifying rictus of fury. His armor clanked loudly as his entire body trembled with barely-contained rage. At any second, the control would snap, the leash would break, and the full wrath of the King of Heroes, the oldest and most powerful hero ever, would be brought down upon them both.

Shirou prepared himself, held his sword in front of him and prepared the image of Avalon as backup.

But it was unnecessary.

Without another word, Gilgamesh vanished into golden dust and the terrifyingly powerful King of Heroes was gone.

Shirou breathed a sigh of relief and relaxed. The buzzing in his chest that he had almost forgotten about vanished, too.

He'd done it. Against all odds, he'd done it. He'd forced Gilgamesh to retreat. That meant that he could actually do it. When the time came, when he was facing Gilgamesh on top of the mountain with a clear shot and no one else in the way, he could unleash his sword in all of its glory, hold back only enough to contain the damage, and defeat even the mighty King of Heroes.

"That sword…"

Shirou turned. Saber glanced up and met his eyes for an instant, then turned them back to the weapon in his hands.

"Your fight against Rin's Archer did not reveal its true measure," she said unnecessarily. "And yet…a sword, greater than my _Excalibur_?"

"Different," he clarified. "Excalibur was forged of the prayer 'glory.' It's a sword that's meant to be held by a king who personifies its nature — a king who strides across battlefields, undefeated, and embodies the noblest of desires of all those who stand beside her and against her. It was _your_ sword, Saber."

He hefted Escalvatine. There were similarities between hers and his, there was no doubt. Escalvatine had been modeled after Excalibur, but made stronger because it served a stronger purpose.

King Arthur ruled Britain, was its salvation, its glory, its greatest king ever. King Arthur fought men and heroes, witches and sorcerers, and maybe the occasional dragon (and even then, so very rarely).

Emiya Shirou was a king only in name and in deed. He was the hero who would stride across battlefields, who would save everyone he could, who would walk the world for the sake of his ideals. He would fight whatever monsters were thrown at him — any men he fought would be either completely ordinary or mages, and they would all be defeated swiftly enough. What awaited him after those men, what awaited him on his long journey, were monsters and demons, creatures that could weather an attack even from the strongest holy sword ever forged.

And he would do it alone.

Inevitably, there would be places his comrades could not follow. There would be enemies his friends could not fight. Inevitably, Shirou would have to face creatures and beasts that could go toe to toe with even the vaunted Heroic Spirits.

And so, Emiya Shirou needed a sword that could destroy even such creatures as those.

"This sword was forged of the prayer 'Salvation,'" Shirou explained. "It was made unbreakable and given the power to destroy even the most fearsome of monsters. It wasn't made to serve a conquering king, who would raze armies in defense of his nation. It's a sword made to utterly destroy anything that stands in its way."

He looked at the red enamel that decorated the langet, which looks so much like blood. "It's a sword made to see the end of the world."

He gave her a bittersweet smile.

"Archer was right, but he never said to me anything I didn't already know," Shirou admitted. "There _will_ be times when I'm forced to choose one side over the other, to kill one person so that another can live, to sacrifice a few lives so that many more can be saved. I'm going to have to use this sword to kill people. And that's fine. I already know that I can't save everyone."

"Shirou…"

"After all," he said quietly, "I already knew that I can't save _you_."

"Shirou," she started again.

"What'll happen after this Grail War," he cut in again, "what awaits you on that hill when the Grail has been destroyed. I already know that I can't save you from that —"

"Shirou," she stopped him.

Her hand came up. With a shimmer, her armor vanished and she pressed her bare palm over his heart, fingers splayed across his chest.

"You already have," she told him softly.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

It was still dark when Shirou woke up. Moonlight streamed in through the window and left long white lines across the floor. Around him, everything else was cast in a dark gray-blue hue. It had to have been long past midnight, through into the early hours of the morning.

Shirou sat up and ran his fingers through his hair, which was greasy from dried sweat. He breathed in; a musky scent pervaded his room, tinged with the smell of burgundy and fresh water.

A low murmur came from beside him, and there, naked as the day she was born, was Saber, curled up with her back to him and sleeping peacefully. A small, satisfied smile was playing about her lips.

Shirou couldn't stop himself from smiling, too, and closed his eyes as the memories flooded back.

He'd made love to her again.

No, that was the wrong order.

They'd come back from the fight with Gilgamesh a little after eleven o'clock to find the house dark and everyone asleep. Ilya hadn't budged since the night before, but Rin had pulled out an extra futon and curled up on it next to Sakura's. She must've nodded off at some point unintentionally, because Shirou had been the one to pull a blanket over her to keep her warm.

After that, he'd made them a quick but filling dinner and they'd eaten in relative silence, then cleaned the dishes and headed for bed.

Except Saber had had a different idea.

Shirou chuckled a little as he remembered it. Saber wasn't exactly the most forward person when it came to romantic gestures (partly because she'd sacrificed such things for the sake of her kingship), so the blushing, stammered request that he "embrace her" the way he had in the Einzbern forest had been both a little awkward and almost unbearably cute.

He wasn't exactly sure how many times they'd each peaked. Saber had seemed content with just the first time, but just the sight of her had set something off inside of him, and she hadn't objected when he made love to her a second, third, and fourth time, and he'd lost track of how many times she had gripped tightly at his biceps and gasped out his name.

She was surprisingly easy to please, all things considered. He wouldn't say that he was exceptionally skilled, but she seemed to enjoy whatever touches he graced her skin with.

Well, maybe the ten years of abstinence she'd practiced while ruling her kingdom had something to do with it (and worse, ten years of abstinence with her body trapped as a _teenager_; most men would've gone insane).

He was surprised that he hadn't slept straight through the night, considering how tired he'd been afterwards. That exhausted, he shouldn't have been waking up for quite a while, but after a few short hours — four in the morning, the clock read — he'd woken up for no apparent reason.

In that regard, perhaps it hadn't been quite a good idea to make love to her so much. If he didn't go back to sleep, then he'd be tired the next day, but if he did, then he was likely to wake up way later than they'd intended to — there was virtually no chance of him getting up early enough for them to get up to the church by dawn.

Well, that part of the plan had always been a bit flexible. Dawn was simply the most convenient.

If he were honest, he was actually dreading it. Destroying the church would set too many things into motion — one way or the other, destroying the church would mark the beginning of the end of the Fifth Holy Grail War. If they managed to defeat Gilgamesh, Cúchulainn, and Kirei all at once, then so much the better, but if they didn't, then the final battle would begin. Lancer would be defeated, then they'd have to fight Gilgamesh and Kirei, and after that, when the Grail manifested, they would have to destroy it, and Saber would return to that hill to die.

For that reason, he couldn't regret making love to her like it was the last night they would have together. One way or another, tomorrow was the end of the Holy Grail War. Tomorrow, he would have to say goodbye to Saber. Tomorrow, all his victories and triumphs would culminate into a final confrontation to decide the fate of the world. If he failed, All the World's Evils would be fully and entirely unleashed.

If he failed, the world as he knew it would be completely and utterly destroyed.

Which meant that he should stop musing and get back to sleep.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The light streaming in through the window was still dim when Shirou woke up again, and as he sat up and glanced sleepily at the clock, he thought that that was probably the reason why he hadn't gotten up earlier. He plopped back down on the bedding haphazardly and tilted his head back to look out the window: the sky was a dismal, overcast gray.

Yeah, he decided, after everything that had happened last night, there was no way he would have been getting up early in the morning without the usual bright ray of sunlight glaring down at his face.

Besides, the entire point behind getting up early had been making his way to the church in time to destroy it as the sun rose. That way, the flash from his sword or from Saber's wouldn't have caught anyone's attention and everyone would have written it off as sunlight peeking over the horizon.

If the entire day had been overcast, though, as he suspected it had, then the sunrise wouldn't have been especially noticeable behind the murky gray clouds that stretched all the way across the sky. Since that was the case, the entire deception behind using the sunrise to disguise the flash of either Excalibur or Escalvatine was moot.

Well, it could have been a lot worse, he mused. Ten o'clock in the morning wasn't as bad as one o'clock in the afternoon, so he still had plenty of time to get ready and go destroy the church. In the end, the church was pretty out of the way compared to the rest of the town, so the whole sunrise trick hadn't been necessary, just very, very convenient.

"Shirou," a quiet voice whispered. A hand reached down and slim, callused fingers curled affectionately around his. "You are awake?"

He gave Saber's hand a gentle squeeze — he probably could've squeezed as hard as he could and it wouldn't hurt her, but still — and turned his head to the side to greet her cool green eyes.

"Good morning, Saber," he greeted.

She closed her eyes and let out a sigh through her nostrils, then gave him her own little smile.

"Good morning, Shirou," she returned.

"We should probably get up," he told her.

She hummed. "Yes, we should," she agreed.

Ten minutes later, they were bathing together and washing away the grime of the previous night's exertions. Initially, Shirou had suggested taking turns, but Saber had insisted (despite the redness in her cheeks) that bathing together would be far more efficient than doing so separately. It took all of his self-control not to turn that simple bath into something a little more…intimate.

Saber made it a lot more difficult when she suggested they wash each other's backs, and then gave him short kisses every time their lips came within six inches of one another. Between that and the delicious feel of the soft skin of her back beneath his hands, it was a miracle he managed to keep himself from making love to her again.

Fully clothed and hair still dripping, Saber and Shirou stepped into the dining room at ten-thirty. Rin greeted them with a flimsy wave from the table, where she was sitting and sipping her morning tea.

"Morning, Tousaka," Shirou said.

"Good morning, Rin," Saber said politely.

"Morning, Saber, Shirou," Rin replied.

"I'm going to start breakfast," Shirou declared as he headed towards the kitchen.

"And I will set the table," Saber offered.

"So, you guys were out pretty late last night," Rin started conversationally as Shirou ducked into the fridge to find food. "Did you enjoy yourselves? Maybe…slip into a love hotel for an hour or so of passionate sex?"

Two things happened simultaneously: Shirou jerked up and hit the back of his head on the roof of the refrigerator, and Saber dropped the plate she'd been holding. Then, three more things happened simultaneously: a throbbing ache started where Shirou had hit his head, the dropped plate smashed and broke on the floor, and Rin started laughing.

"Tousaka!"

"Rin!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Rin gasped between laughs. "I-I just c-couldn't hel — help myself!"

Shirou heard the distinct sound of her fist beating weakly against the tabletop as she bent over and grasped her stomach. When he turned to glare at her, she was doubled over with her forehead pressed against the table and her shoulders heaving as she cackled into her skirt.

It wasn't that funny, he didn't think. It was actually kind of insulting — like he'd take Saber to a love hotel, a place where so many other couples would have enjoyed whatever room they wound up in. It didn't matter how well it was cleaned; love hotels just weren't personal enough, especially when he'd spent the last week and a half with her curled up beside him in his own bed.

"If you're finished," Shirou snapped as he bent over to help Saber pick up the pieces of the broken plate.

"No, no, let me help —"

Rin was up and kneeling beside him within seconds, and she muttered an incantation as she smeared her finger over one of the larger pieces. Like the window that first night, all of the cracked and shattered bits of the plate snapped back together as though it had never been broken.

"Consider that my apology," Rin told him lightly. She went back over to the table and sat back down. "I expected a pretty good reaction, but I didn't mean for you guys to break stuff over it, so I'm sorry."

"I guess it's alright," Shirou mumbled. He handed the plate back to Saber. "Here."

"O-of course," Saber muttered. Her cheeks were flushed, but she ignored it and went back to setting the table, so Shirou went back to cooking breakfast.

"Anyway," Rin said, "Sakura has made a full recovery."

Shirou's heart thudded to a stop and he turned around again to look at her. "Really?"

"Yup," Rin said succinctly. "She's still asleep, but everything that was damaged has been healed. I pulled _that_ out of her about two hours ago."

She gestured to Avalon, Saber's golden sheath, which sat over in the corner propped up against the wall. Shirou couldn't help the burst of excitement that welled up in his belly; they had one of their trump cards back, and even more importantly, Sakura was okay.

"Also," she continued, "I meant to tell you guys earlier, but so much stuff kept happening. I found the location of Lancer's Master a few days ago — or rather, the location of the person who _used _to be his Master. Whoever she was, she was a foreigner from the Mage's Association, but, well…There was nothing left except a lot of blood and a severed left arm."

Shirou's right hand curled into a fist.

He'd forgotten about that. Kotomine had stolen Lancer's contract early into the War and left the Master to bleed out and die. And he'd forgotten about that — so stupid, he was so stupid. If he'd remembered, then maybe he could've _saved_ her —

"It was old, though," Rin went on. "Whoever attacked her did it _days_ ago, long before Lancer offered his help against Caster, and probably before you even summoned Saber, Shirou. Based on the amount of blood, Lancer's Master was probably dead by the time he and Archer fought up at the school."

She sighed.

"A Master is only a Master if they're chosen by the Grail," Rin said to herself, "so cutting off the left arm and stealing the Command Seals from it is useless unless you're already a Master. Right, Saber?"

"Yes, Rin, that is correct," Saber answered calmly. "A Magus cannot become a Master simply by stealing the Command Seals from another. The Grail is the one who chooses Masters."

Rin hummed thoughtfully. Shirou felt his heartbeat quicken — he could say, he knew. He could just come out and tell her what she was already thinking of herself. Kirei was the final enemy. Kirei was Lancer's Master. He could so very easily tell her that truth, cut to the chase.

But she had asked him not to tell her. Just yesterday, she had asked him not to tell her anything about the Grail War that he knew because he time traveled. This was not something she could change, true, but he figured that it would mean more to her if she puzzled it out herself.

"Except…Shirou and I are the last Masters left, aside from Ilya," Rin muttered. She glanced at her hand, which was bare. The Command Seals that had marked it were long gone. "Zouken, Shinji, Caster, and Kuzuki are all dead. With his Master gone, Lancer should've disappeared."

She hummed thoughtfully again. "One last question, Saber. If a Master retains both his Command Seals and his Servant, then is he still a Master, even after the Grail War ends?"

"It is as you say, Rin," Saber confirmed. "Even once the Holy Grail War has ended, a Master remains a Master so long as he possesses both his Command Seals and his Servant."

Rin scowled and looked down at her tea as though she had just been told it was poison. Shirou imagined that, to her, every foul thought she'd ever had about Kotomine Kirei had just been justified.

"Shirou," she began calmly, "I know I asked you not to tell me and I'm not sure whether or not you've told Saber yet about that little secret of yours, but…"

She looked at him with sharp, cold blue eyes. "Is Kirei Lancer's Master?"

Shirou put on the most serious, solemn look he could muster. "Yes."

Rin stared back down at her tea and sloshed it about in her cup with an absolutely miserable expression on her face.

"So Lancer was nothing more than a way to gather information," she concluded. "He was nothing more than a glorified spy. His entire purpose was to gather whatever information he could about the other Servants summoned so that Kirei could attack with whatever other Servant he's kept squirreled away for the last ten years — Shirou, by any chance, were you guys out late last night because Kirei's other Servant attacked you?"

Shirou blinked and his mouth flapped soundlessly. She'd figured out all of that just from the fact that Kirei was Lancer's Master?

"Yes," Saber answered for him. "Last night, we were attacked by the Archer class Servant from the Fourth Holy Grail War."

"Archer, huh?" Rin mused. "Do we know his identity?"

"Gilgamesh," Saber told her solemnly, "the King of Heroes."

Rin twitched, but didn't comment. "And his Noble Phantasm?"

"The Gate of Babylon," Shirou said before Saber could. "A gateway to his treasure room, containing everything he ever collected when he was alive. The number of Noble Phantasms he has inside of it is virtually limitless."

Rin twitched again, but still didn't comment. "Which is virtually useless against your Unlimited Blade Works. Right, so we can beat him."

"There is one other Noble Phantasm of particular note in his possession," Saber interrupted. "It is a weapon even greater than my Excalibur. Gilgamesh calls it Ea, the Sword of Rupture. As a Noble Phantasm, it exceeds the standard system of ranking."

This time, Rin couldn't contain herself.

"And you walked away from _that_?" she demanded incredulously. "If you were _that_ outmatched, you should've been _crushed_! That's not even a competition! You two should be _smears on the pavement_ if you went up against something so outrageous! There's _no way_ you could have fought a weapon like that and — oh, I see."

She turned to Shirou with a look of understanding on her face. "That's what you needed those books for," she clarified. "You weren't looking for a way to fix your bond with Saber, you were looking for a way to contact something that could compete with Ea. That's how you got that sword, right?"

Shirou blinked. "Ah…Yeah."

It was scary, sometimes, just how smart Rin was.

"Well then," she went on, "I guess all that's left is for you to beat Kirei and end this thing. Do you have a plan?"

"We do," Saber nodded.

Shirou's lips tightened into a line. "We're going to destroy the church."

Rin frowned at him, but she didn't say anything right away. Her eyes became unfocused and glazed over, and he recognized that she was imagining the scenario in her head — how feasible it was, how likely it was that it would work, exactly what repercussions could be expected afterwards — and then she looked at him again.

"It could work," she said slowly. "If you catch them by surprise, then there's no way they can get away in time to avoid being caught up in the attack. Yeah, that'd do it — all three of them at once, provided they're all there. Even if you only get Kirei, Lancer won't last long without a Master, which means that Gilgamesh would be the only problem left."

She hummed thoughtfully. "I have to say, though, Shirou, that this sounds rather more like something _Archer _would've suggested than something I expected of you."

And despite how uncomfortable that might have made him, Shirou couldn't find it in himself to care.

"If it means saving the city," he told her firmly, "then I don't care."

Rin smiled her wicked, smug smile. "Then I guess the only thing left for _me_ to do is stay here to watch Ilya and wish you good luck."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Immediately after breakfast, Shirou grabbed Avalon from the corner and Escalvatine from his room and gave the former to Saber and strapped the latter to his belt. Unfortunately, it was still daylight, so walking around in the clothing he'd been given by the Fae wasn't feasible — it would draw far too much attention.

So, despite feeling rather naked and unprotected, Shirou left the house with Saber in his normal clothing a little after noon. He comforted himself with the fact that if all went well, he wouldn't need his armor anyway.

They walked in silence, the two of them, side by side and wearing identical expressions on their faces. Shirou didn't know about Saber, but a thrill of nervousness was sending his stomach into flip-flops, and it only got worse with every step. It was as he'd thought the night before: whether they succeeded or not, too many things would be set in motion. At the end of the night, Saber would leave him, one way or another.

If they succeeded, then he'd have time to say his goodbyes to her as fully and completely as he wanted to; it was not the same as having her by his side for the rest of his life, but it was better than the few short minutes they'd had on that hill the first time. If they failed, then it was likely things would play out much the same as they had that first time, which meant only a few short minutes for them to bid each other farewell.

Either way, he was going to lose her again.

He cursed himself for his weakness. Hadn't he known that from the beginning? Hadn't he already been aware that he would have to be parted from her when it was all over, no matter when that was? It wasn't like he hadn't known that she was going to leave when everything was finished.

It shouldn't have been so surprising that he would miss her. No, it shouldn't have been a surprise at all. The throne of his soul which had remained empty since that fire had been filled by her. Every instinct and drive that should have been dedicated to self-preservation had been dedicated to her instead. There was nothing in him that could replace her.

And that was why, despite know that she wouldn't stay, that she _couldn't_ stay, Shirou wanted very desperately for her to stay.

They were halfway across the bridge when Saber broke the silence.

"Do you think this will work, Shirou?" she asked quietly.

He frowned.

"I don't know," he said honestly. "I mean, if it goes as planned, then it should. All the same, we should be prepared for something to go wrong, because, I mean, how much stuff has gone as planned so far?"

He thought of Rider and Shinji, Saber having to use Excalibur against Pegasus, Ilya kidnapping him, Rin saving Archer, Archer siding with Caster, Caster stealing Saber's contract, Zouken and Assassin, Sakura — really, no matter how much he'd tried, he'd never been in control of what was happening in the Grail War. Every plan he'd made had fallen apart at the seams, with the notable exception of the sword currently sheathed at his hip.

Saber hummed.

"Yes, I see your point," she said thoughtfully. "Then it would be prudent to be ready in the case that Gilgamesh or Kotomine Kirei should survive."

"Right," Shirou nodded. "So it's a good thing we have Avalon back."

"Shirou," Saber began, "are you sure it should not be _you_ who carries the sheath?"

Against his will, Saber's concern made Shirou smile.

"No," he told her, "you need it more than me. If I have to, I can just Trace a copy of it, and if I just need a shield, there are a couple that I can pull from the hill. You're the one that needs a defense, Saber, so _you_ keep it."

"Very well," she accepted. "As you say, Shirou."

It was fifteen minutes later, a few minutes after one o'clock, that they came upon the church. The chill in the air as they stepped into the courtyard had nothing to do with the winter weather, and Shirou had to bite the inside of his cheek to distract himself when he remembered that the decaying orphans from that fire ten years ago were sequestered away in the basement.

It was as he said before. He could not go back for them. He could not change their fates. Even with a miracle like the Grail — had it actually been untainted — he would not have tried to alter the events that had led them to where they were. It was cruel, perhaps, but even if they cursed him for it, Shirou would not change his mind. He would carry the weight of that decision upon his shoulders.

On that day, in that hell, with so many crying out for salvation, only Shirou had been saved. As the only survivor of that tragedy, it was the responsibility of Emiya Shirou to carry that weight. As the only one to be saved, it was Emiya Shirou who must bear that burden.

And so, with one single swing, with one single attack, he would save the world, and he would save those tortured souls lying in that basement. He would destroy Kotomine Kirei, he would destroy Gilgamesh, and he would set them free of their torment.

"Are you ready?" he asked Saber.

"Yes, Shirou," she said. She took a step forward and Excalibur in all its golden glory appeared in her hands. "Please leave this to me."

"What?" Shirou protested. "No, Saber, I should be the one —"

"I understand your feelings on this, Shirou," Saber interrupted him. "However, should something go wrong, then it would only be to our disadvantage if you used up so much energy to destroy the church. Therefore, as I am your Servant and recover my energy more quickly, I shall destroy the church for you."

Shirou's mouth snapped shut. He hated it, but she was right. He hated to admit it, but she was right. With the Servant-Master bond properly made, she could leach all the energy she needed from him, and with her fantastic recovery rate, even that wouldn't be too much. If she attacked the church, then she could recoup her energy within a few minutes, _especially_ now that she had Avalon. Shirou had no such luxury — if he destroyed the church but didn't kill their targets, then he wouldn't have any method of recovering the energy lost.

"…Alright," he conceded reluctantly. "Then I'm trusting you with this, Saber."

"Please stand back, Shirou."

He took two steps back and watched as Saber turned her full attention to the church. The sword in her hand lit up and began to glow with an intense golden-white light. Saber squared her feet, faced her body towards the church, grasped Excalibur with both hands, and lifted it high above her head.

"EX —"

She swung down.

"— CALIBUR!"

A flash of gold leapt forward. The ultimate slash, the bullet of light and Prana equal in strength to a god's magic, sped forward as a beam of white-gold. The church, the unholy house Kotomine Kirei used to trap the orphans from that fire as food for Gilgamesh, was consumed and annihilated.

In one blow, the Fifth Holy Grail War was ended.

In one blow, Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes, Cúchulainn, Ireland's Son of Light, and Kotomine Kirei, the last surviving Master from the Fourth Holy Grail War, were all killed.

Shirou let the tension in his shoulders ease and breathed a sigh of relief. It was over, then. The Grail War was over. Cúchulainn, Gilgamesh, and Kirei were all dead. He didn't have anything else to worry about except for disposing of the corrupted Grail. He could relax —

The air froze. From the smoke and debris of the church, a blue figure leapt skyward towards the sun. In his hands, a long, red spear glinted in the muted sunlight. The figure, Cúchulainn, pulled back his arms and aimed his lance to strike like a missile.

Shirou's mind was already moving, even though his body remained rooted to the spot. Almost on instinct, two blueprints were pulled to the forefront of his brain, and in the space next to his head, two spears appeared, loaded with Prana and ready to strike.

Cúchulainn's voice echoed across the courtyard. "GÁE!"

"BOLG!" Shirou finished.

Two red spears shot through the air — the first left Cúchulainn's hand and shot down as a rain of light towards Shirou and Saber; the second soared upwards as a counter rain towards Cúchulainn. Whereas Cúchulainn's spear was aimed at Shirou and Saber, however, Shirou's spear was aimed at the rain of light produced by the first spear.

Both rains met in the air and collided, then exploded and dissipated. Two attacks of equal force and power met, clashed, and canceled out.

For Lancer, that was it. His attack had been stopped and his energy was spent.

For Shirou, that was only the beginning.

The second spear, a black spear with twisted vines etched into the shaft just below the blade, shot off towards Cúchulainn at the speed of a bullet.

"Gungnir."

Gungnir, the Declaration of the Elder God, one of the predecessors to Cúchulainn's Gáe Bolg. In the same sense as Gáe Bolg always hit the heart by reversing cause and effect, Gungnir always hit its target, no matter the skill and strength of the wielder.

It was not the same as Gáe Bolg — Gáe Bolg, the Barbed Spear that Pierces with Death, which reversed causality so that the strike came before the thrust. Gungnir was the spear that always hit its target, going through defenses and armors like paper. Once the target was decided, the spear interfered with destiny to actualize its attack. Sufficient Luck could allow one to avoid it, but otherwise, there was no way of dodging its blow. It was a missile that sought its target and didn't stop until it hit. Between Gáe Bolg and Gungnir, the principle was similar but the effect was different.

Gungnir hit Cúchulainn, and then Cúchulainn hit the ground.

The tension in Shirou's body seeped away again, but he didn't allow himself to relax entirely. If Lancer survived the attack, then there was no reason to believe that Kirei hadn't —

"By the power of this Command Seal," Kirei's voice echoed across the courtyard, "Cúchulainn, _kill_ them both."

A blue blur sped back out of the smoke and debris left behind of the church, a blur too fast for Shirou to dodge, too swift for him to avoid. Despite the gaping wound in his chest, Cúchulainn rushed Shirou at full speed, and there was no time to get out of the way.

Then, just as Shirou thought Cúchulainn would deal the killing blow, another blue blur crashed into him, stabbing a golden sword — Excalibur — through his side and pushing him away. Cúchulainn flew across the courtyard and tumbled over the ground as Saber skidded to a halt in front of Shirou, her sword still poised in the final motions of her thrust.

But even that wasn't enough, because Cúchulainn still stood up and still made to attack. Shirou pulled Gáe Bolg from the hill and threw himself in front of Saber as Lancer bore down on them again.

"Gáe Bolg!"

Causality reversed, and the Barbed Spear that Pierces with Death struck the already damaged heart that had been pierced by Gungnir. The force of the blow flung Cúchulainn back again, but this time, Shirou didn't wait for Lancer to pick himself up off the ground. Gáe Bolg dissipated and was replaced with another spear, a different spear, but one of its predecessors all the same.

It was not the Finest Yew of the Wood, it was not the Gáe Assail, it was not the Slaughterer; the spear that Shirou pulled this time was the Five Roaring Stars, named Brionac in Japan, one of the Four Treasures of the Tuatha Dé Danann.

The final spear was flung, and the tip split into five, and from each tip came a light that could kill five enemies at once.

That was how the Lancer known as Cúchulainn died: obliterated beneath the attack of one of his father's spears.

There was a moment of silence through the courtyard, not out of respect for the fallen Servant, but out of a tense fear that he might stand up _yet again_. After five seconds, however, and then twenty-five seconds, and then a full two minutes, there was only the silence, and Shirou allowed himself to relax because Cúchulainn had _finally_ been defeated.

"Come on," he said at last.

He turned away from the church and back to the city, mentally mapping the shortest route he knew to get back home. With the church gone but Kirei and Gilgamesh both alive, there was only one thing they would be after, now.

Both Kirei and Gilgamesh wanted the Grail, after all.

"Shirou?" Saber asked.

"If Kirei's going to make a move, there's only one place he'd go," Shirou told her.

There was a moment of silence as his words hung in the air, and he absently imagined the look on her face as he gazed out at the town — a short moment of confusion, then surprised realization, then knowing acceptance.

"Ilya," she said quietly.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

A shiver swept down Shirou's spine as he stepped through the front door of his home. It was a bad feeling, a premonition, an omen. He didn't need to see the drops of blood splattered in a neat, dotted line on the floor. He didn't need to smell the tangy, coppery scent of freshly spilled blood. He didn't need to see the dried red stain leading to the living room.

He didn't need to…because he already knew what had happened.

His feet started moving before he even realized what he was about to do, and a scant moment after stepping foot inside, his feet were pounding like thunder as he raced towards the living room. In his ears, his pulse was like a set of snare drums beating wildly.

The scene he came upon when he entered the living room was familiar — Rin, bloody, motionless, leaning up against the wall with one arm wrapped around the huge red stain on her belly and the other lying limply to the side at an odd angle. The wall behind her and to the side was smeared with red — she must have slammed back against the wall at the instant of the attack, then slid sideways as she crumpled to the ground.

"Rin!" Saber gasped.

Rin's eyes blinked open.

"Oh," she wheezed. "You guys are finally back. Geez, Shirou. Don't you know you're not supposed to keep a lady waiting? You were gone so long that I was just about to fall asleep."

"Damn it," Shirou swore and rushed to her side. Kotomine was too fast — no, it might have been Gilgamesh, too. The distraction of fighting Lancer had given them enough of a head start to outpace both Shirou and Saber.

"Don't bother," Rin told him as he went to check her injuries. "I've already treated the injury — I can at least do that much, you know."

She tried to take a deep breath, but stopped midway with a wince. Shirou cursed his own inadequacies — _he _should've been the one to destroy the church. If he'd swung his sword at its full power, then it wouldn't have mattered if Gilgamesh had a shield that could take the raw attack — the only thing that could counter Chaos was Truth.

"I'm sorry, Shirou," Rin apologized breathily. "I thought I could take him, but I guess I just wasn't strong enough. He came here and took Ilya."

"I know," he told her. "I already know, Rin. Don't talk — Saber, some towels, some bandages, some hot water, and a bowl."

Saber nodded wordlessly and left.

"I thought I could beat him," Rin said weakly. "I thought I could win. But he was just too fast and just too strong. Heh — I guess the student hasn't surpassed the master just yet…"

"_Don't talk_," he said again. "Just stay there and rest. I'll treat your wounds."

"You'll have to face Kirei yourself," she told him. She rummaged around with her other hand — so it wasn't broken, good. "If Gilgamesh is his Servant, he'll already know about your sword, so you'll need a surprise, too."

She pulled out the Azoth dagger and presented it to him.

"You already know how to use this, right?" she asked rhetorically.

He hesitated for a second, but took it, inspected the engravings on the hilt for a moment, then sheathed it in his belt.

"You gave it to me last time, too," was the only explanation he gave. By the weak smirk that curled her lips, it was all the explanation she needed.

"One last thing, Shirou," she mumbled as her eyes fluttered closed. "When you fight Kirei…you'd better win. Understand?"

And then, her head dropped and she was asleep.

"…Yeah."

He only said it half-heartedly, an agreement to her terms as reluctant as he'd been to take her dagger. No, in the first place, he wasn't sure that it would be him to face Kirei at all.

In the grand scheme of things, the wiser decision would be to send Saber after Kirei and fight Gilgamesh himself. That was the reason why he'd taken up his sword, wasn't it? That was why he'd done everything that he'd done for the past week and a half. So then, didn't it make sense that he would be the one to fight the King of Heroes?

But his heart didn't seem so sure.

They didn't go after Kirei and Gilgamesh right away. After Saber returned with the towels, bowel, bandages, and hot water, they'd treated Rin's wounds, put her to bed with a still-sleeping Sakura, and eaten a quiet dinner on what remained of the dinner table, then cleaned as best they could in silence.

When everything else was done, when the sun had set and the moon had risen, when the clock struck midnight and the guarantee of secrecy became fact, Shirou slipped into his room and dressed in his armor — red and gold cloth cascaded over his body and fit to his form. When everything else had been belted, buttoned, and buckled, he pulled on the overcoat, buckled the belt that went over it, and slipped his hands into the brown leather gloves.

Saber was waiting for him when he stepped back into the living room, seated calmly in her usual spot around what remained of the dinner table. She looked up at him, her face carefully blank.

"You are ready?" she asked solemnly.

"Yeah," he declared without a single doubt.

"Very well then," she said. "There is one last thing we must settle before we go to the Temple. Shirou, which of us is to fight Gilgamesh, and which of us is to fight Kotomine Kirei?"

"I —" he began, then stopped.

_I don't know_, he thought.

Logically, tactically, Shirou was the appropriate choice. His Unlimited Blade Works was the perfect counter to the Gate of Babylon, and his sword was the only weapon in their combined arsenal that could go toe to toe with Ea. Avalon could deflect it and defend against it, but Avalon was only a defensive tool, and one mistake with Avalon would mean Saber's defeat. In the long and short of it, Shirou was uniquely suited to fighting Gilgamesh.

If it was a matter of advantages and disadvantages, Shirou was the obvious choice.

However, had he not just learned that he wasn't alone in this fight? Had he not just learned, had he not just been reminded, that he could, in fact, rely on Saber? Had he not just been reminded that he didn't need to shoulder all of the burdens he carried by himself? Everything that had occurred in the War had led to this moment, this decision, but how much had he accomplished on his own?

Saber had always been by his side. Saber had always been there to protect him, to fight with him and for him, to give him strength when he needed it and to defeat the enemies that he could not. There was nothing in him that could replace her. The throne of his soul, the seat which had remained empty for ten long years, had been filled by her. _Everything_ of him was with her.

Saber might be disadvantaged against Gilgamesh, but she had beaten him before. Shirou knew it as surely as he knew that he loved her. She could win. It might be hard, it might be difficult, it might be the most uphill battle she had ever fought, but she could still win. She had stood by his side through the worst the Grail War had to offer, had accepted that he had lied to her without complaint, and had loved him as fully and completely as he did her. Couldn't he trust her to fight Gilgamesh?

No, of course. There had never been any reason to question it. It was only natural. There was no other way it could be. In the end, despite how long it had taken for him to realize it, there had only ever been one choice. The only one who could fight Gilgamesh was —

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To be continued:  
><strong>__**Normal End - Chapter 15: A Prayer Named Glory  
>Good End - Chapter 17: Everything In These Hands<br>**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Don't ask about Gungnir. That thing gives me so many headaches that there's no **_**way**_** I'm gonna use it again.**

**A surprising number of people want to see Shirou beat Gilgamesh first. In other words, a lot of people wanted to see the Good End first. But I didn't post the poll to decide **_**which**_** end came first; I posted it to see what the fans wanted out of the final battle. Normal End is coming first, so even though that'll make some of you feel like your opinion counted for nothing, that's just how it is.**

**Escalvatine has been revised, by the way. In fitting with its theme as "the combination of Excalibur, Excalibur Galatine, and Arondight," its maximum attack power is now 450 — that's three times as powerful as Excalibur, but roughly a tenth as strong as Ea. You might want to check it out on the bottom of Chapter 11, EMIYA. It'll probably go through a few more minor revisions later on, but everything that'll have an effect on the plot is already decided, so those tiny details will only be important to sequels and spin-offs.**

**At this time, I'm considering putting Escalvatine's power back up where it was (1000) and saying that Shirou will place constraints on it after the Grail War (like Proto-Saber's Excalibur). Any thoughts on the subject are welcome.**

**Also, I'm instituting a new practice, starting now. Every fiftieth review (50, 150, 200, etc.), starting with 700 (because reviewer 650 was a Guest), one reviewer chosen at random of those fifty will be eligible to have one question about the story answered as completely and honestly as I am able, spoilers be damned. If you are the one whose review is chosen, then you will be contacted and I will ask you to PM me your question. Every fiftieth review for a **_**chapter**_** will also receive the opportunity to ask a question, so if you wind up chosen for both the fiftieth review and the fiftieth review of the chapter, then you'll have a total of 2 questions you can ask. When we reach one thousand, five random reviewers and reviewer 1000 will each get two questions.**

**This is the catch, though: I **_**will not**_** answer questions regarding future projects, not even this story's sequels, and the review that wins must also have more substance than "Good chapter, update." Other than that, just about everything else goes.**

**I realize that it's a little late in the story to be starting this, but the questions can be about nearly **_**anything**_** in the story, past or future, so if you want to know when Saber finished seeing Shirou's memories of the War, or what Shirou gets up to after the War, I can answer that, too. I'll also be continuing this practice in future stories, so there's that, too.**

**Of course, you all can still ask questions like normal, but from now on, I'll be avoiding spoilers in answering those questions as much as possible (which I haven't really done before, actually). **

**Review count, as of right now: Ch 1: 52  
>Ch 2: 56<br>Ch 3: 57  
>Ch 4: 38<br>Ch 5: 36  
>Ch 6: 36<br>Ch 7: 50 Twigon Halolover  
>Ch 8: 39<br>Ch 9: 38  
>Ch 10: 80<br>Ch 11: 47  
>Ch 12: 50 Twigon Halolover<br>Ch 13: 63  
>Ch 14: 49<br>Ch 15: 42**

**700th review randomized winner: Arcane Alchemist**

_**Do you have enough swords, King of Heroes?!**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	15. A Prayer Named Glory

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XV (Normal End): A Prayer Named Glory  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

— Saber.

The lesson he had forgotten so easily had finally been driven home. He didn't have to fight by himself. Saber was there to help him carry the burden. Saber was there to fight by his side. So the only real choice was to trust her with this.

He'd said it to himself before, but this just drove it home again. He was so stupid. Trying to carry the burden by himself, refusing to let others help him carry it, losing sight of the fact that Saber would always support him, even when she was gone — how utterly stupid of him to forget it all.

"You'll do it, Saber," he told her. "You'll be the one to fight Gilgamesh."

Because he could trust her, because she was there beside him, because he didn't have to walk that path alone. Trying to do everything by himself would only end in failure; he could not beat everyone and do everything, so it was only natural that he must trust others to do the things he could not, to handle the issues he could not, and to be there when he needed help.

That was why he would trust Saber to fight Gilgamesh while he saved Ilya. She was his sword, his sheath, his partner; she was the person dearest to him. If he could not trust Saber, if he couldn't believe in her, then who could he?

It would be a difficult matchup, but not impossible. She could defeat Gilgamesh, so taking her place and ordering her not to fight Gilgamesh would only be his selfish desire to save her from harm, from even the _threat _of harm. To force her not to fight Gilgamesh, to tell her that he wouldn't _allow_ her to fight Gilgamesh, would be to do the one thing he was forbidden from doing: trampling upon her pride.

This was not simply a fight to end the Grail War; this was a fight for Saber's pride as a King and as a Servant. He had no doubt that she would accept it if he decided to fight Gilgamesh himself — she would accept that it was a wise decision, that it would indeed be more advantageous for Shirou to fight their strongest foe than for her — but doing so would deprive her of the chance to settle the grudge that existed between the King of Knights and the King of Heroes.

Gilgamesh had stepped upon her pride, callously and carelessly. Saber did not easily forgive such insult.

That was why Shirou selflessly decided that he would not allow his selfishness to stand in Saber's way of proving the King of Heroes wrong.

"Very well, then, Shirou," Saber stood slowly and carefully, making sure not to cause a bigger mess. "If you are prepared for what we must do, then we should not waste any time in heading for the Temple. With all of the other Servants defeated, it is only a matter of time before the Grail fully manifests."

"Right." Shirou nodded.

Archer, Lancer, Rider, Berserker, Caster, and Assassin had all been eliminated. Ilya was approaching the point where she would be transformed into the Grail, and if that happened, there would be no way to save her. The more time was wasted talking about it, the more time they spent discussing the issue, the closer Ilya would come to dying, well and truly, and Shirou refused to let that happen.

Whatever else she was, whatever else she had been to him, Ilya was his friend.

More than that, it went against everything that Emiya Shirou was to let Ilya be killed. So long as the possibility of saving her existed, then he, as Emiya Shirou, could not ignore it.

"_I want to save everybody."_

Had he not made an oath to do just that? Had he not shown Archer that he would follow his ideals, that he would strive for that utopia, even if it hurt, even if he stumbled sometimes, even if it cost him more than anyone else would be willing to pay? Had he not proved that nothing would sway him from that path?

To leave Ilya to her fate, to knowingly risk her life when he could save her, that was a denial of the person who was Emiya Shirou, and so it was only natural that he would try to save her, that he wouldn't let anything stop him from saving her — not anything, and _especially_ not Kotomine Kirei.

The Grail War was coming to a close. The only enemies that remained were the King of Heroes and the fake priest. The last two obstacles to the safety of the people of Fuyuki (and, indeed, the world) were waiting for Shirou and Saber atop the Ryûdô Temple. With the enemies clear and the matchups decided, there was no more planning to be made, no more preparations or plots, no more allies to seek out or delays to distract them. There was only one thing left for them to do.

There was only one thing left to do.

"Let's go," he said resolutely.

There was only one thing left to do —

End the Holy Grail War.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The moon hung low in the sky, casting the night into a faint blue glow. Gray moonlight spilled down over their shoulders as Shirou and Saber slowly climbed the stairway up the mountainside. In the distance, awaiting them at the top, an ominous pink-red glow emanated from the Temple.

The mountain itself seemed alive — the mana around them was thick, oppressive, and dense, and warm air breathed down from the gate at the top. The trees shook and shivered, and the ground vibrated beneath their feet like some sort of gigantic creature shaking itself awake.

Above them, behind the Temple, the Grail was beginning to manifest.

"Shirou…"

"Yeah, I know."

Dawn was not far off. Everything was going to end before the sun rose — Kotomine would be killed, Gilgamesh would be defeated, Ilya would be saved…and Saber would return to her own time and die upon that hill.

It was as he had estimated before: destroying the church would set into motion the end of the War, whether they managed to kill Kirei, Lancer, and Gilgamesh or not. Now, the last enemies to be defeated waited for them up ahead, and the moment they were defeated, the only thing left to do would be destroying the Grail. Once the Grail was destroyed, Saber would have to leave — he was sure that Rin, genius as she was, could probably find a way to keep her in this world, in this time, but Shirou understood.

Saber would always choose duty above all else. She would not be Saber if she didn't.

For that reason, keeping her in this time with him was a denial of the person who was Saber — to even ask was to step upon her pride, and that was the one thing Shirou was forbidden from doing.

That was why he could not turn back. That was why he could not be selfish. Loving Saber meant that he could not do that one forbidden thing, so the only path left was to finish the fight and say goodbye to her.

"There's only one thing left to do now, Saber," he said at length. "When we reach the top, I'll leave Gilgamesh to you and go after Kirei myself. Once this all begins, we won't be able to stop, so I won't be able to help you against Gilgamesh and you won't be able to help me against that fake priest."

"It is as you say, Shirou," Saber acknowledged with a nod. "I will focus the entirety of my concentration against Archer, and it will be you who must fight Kotomine Kirei."

"Yeah. And Saber…"

He stopped, and as he turned to face her, so did she. He looked at her, then down at his hand where, beneath his glove, his Command Seals sat, etched into his skin, all _three_ of them. He hadn't used one throughout the entire Grail War, and it seemed now that it would be a waste to not have used any of them at all.

He lifted his left hand and held it up for her to see.

"_**Win**_, Saber," he said. His first Command Seal glowed, then faded and vanished. Saber blinked at him, astonished. "_**Defeat Gilgamesh**_."

In the space of four words, two Command Seals were used and Saber was elevated to a level beyond even the strength she would have possessed with Rin as her Master. With those four words, empowered by those commands, Saber had surpassed the power of even a most excellent Servant and touched upon the realm of the Heroic Spirits.

The power of a Command Seal was close to True Magic. With a properly timed and properly executed Command Seal, a Servant could break the boundaries that limited them and achieve an effect unlike any other, to say nothing of how much more potent the effect was when the Servant followed the command wholeheartedly.

In another life, Shirou had used one Command Seal to bend space and summon Saber to his side in an instant, another to force her not to use her Noble Phantasm, and the last to empower her to use it one time more than she should have been capable. In some ways, that second Command Seal had been wasted, and if they had waited, Saber probably wouldn't have needed the third in order to use Excalibur.

Here and now, he activated two Command Seals in tandem, and he used them to empower her beyond what she would have otherwise been capable of. The orders were vague enough to last more than a single instant, but specific enough to achieve the intended effect. So long as Saber strove to win and defeat Gilgamesh, the power of those Command Seals would enforce her actions.

Her expression changed from surprised to cool and determined. He was looking at the King of Knights, now, the hero King Arthur, who had ruled Britain and repelled nearly every foe undefeated, who had only lost when she was betrayed.

"Very well, then, Shirou," she said calmly. "If you are willing to go so far, then I can only respond in kind. Yes — upon my pride as a King, I promise you that I will not allow him to defeat me."

She said it with strength and resolve, without a hint of hesitation or worry. There wasn't even the slightest trace of doubt in her words or her posture; she was confident and assured. It was no longer in question. She _would_ win. The possibility of anything else happening had just been rejected.

In that case, there was nothing more to say, so Shirou turned back towards the slope of the mountainside and started up the stairs again. She needed no words of comfort to assuage her worries, and as her Master, as her partner, Shirou had no need for them, either.

There was no need for concern, no need to worry that one of them would die. Just as Saber had, Shirou rejected the possibility. All that remained in them now was confidence, confidence that each of them would succeed, that each of them would defeat their enemy, and that they would reunite for those last few moments to say goodbye.

The air grew thicker and more oppressive the further up they climbed. The buzzing in Shirou's chest that had filled him to the brim during the fight with Zouken and that first fight with Gilgamesh started up low and quiet, a gentle hum that grew steadily louder the closer they came to the gate.

For the first time, through the buzzing, he felt what he could only describe as a "word." It wasn't actual speech, nor any word that had meaning, but it seemed to say to him "unnatural."

At the Grail up ahead, at the Servant waiting in the Temple's courtyard, it said to him, "Unnatural."

And following this word came the insistent command, "Destroy it."

It was with that buzzing in his chest that Shirou stepped through the mountain gate. Last time, there had been some reluctance. Last time, Shirou had been tempted with the desire to forget it all and save Saber. Last time, Shirou had hesitated because he wanted to selfishly save only Saber.

But no such reluctance existed this time. This time, there was only grim resolve. This time, there was nothing but the path forward — the moment they had attacked the church, there was no way to go backwards.

And so Shirou stepped through the mountain gate and into the unnatural red glow that bathed the mountaintop.

For an instant, the heady pressure of the tainted Grail pulled the memory of that hell to the forefront of Shirou's mind, but it was with practiced ease that he shunted it back to where it belonged. There was no point in dwelling on what had been; the path Emiya Shirou must take was forward.

"So, you've finally come. I've been waiting for you, Saber."

The figure who said it stood amidst the blood-red light clad in golden armor. Gilgamesh, standing casually, spoke as though he were not surrounded by the oppressive air of All the World's Evils trying to claw itself into the world.

"I assure you, our fight will not go as it did the last time," he said arrogantly. "This time, I am prepared to defeat you, despite the tricks your mongrel Master may employ. Rejoice, Saber. The time is at hand for the Holy Grail to appear, and I shall take special care to ensure that you are still intact enough to enjoy the fruits of this curse."

He gestured to the air around them. "This is the contents of the Holy Grail, Saber. This is the miracle you wished for, the Third Element that allows us Servants to return to this world in corporeal form. This is the very curse that you bathed me in ten years ago, and I shall take a great pleasure in shoving it down your throat once your Master is out of the way."

Saber stepped forward and brandished her sword.

"I'm afraid my Master's responsibilities lie elsewhere this time, Gilgamesh," Saber said coolly. "Therefore, it falls to me to send you back where you belong. I alone shall be your opponent tonight."

Gilgamesh laughed. Behind him, the air itself shook and quaked in time with each guffaw, and the Gate of Babylon released its treasures. Noble Phantasms, countless Noble Phantasms, awaited their master's call.

"So it would seem!" he cackled. "Very well, then, I shall permit it. Mongrel, be gone from my sight. Kotomine would test your resolve behind this Temple."

Shirou glanced once at Saber, and for a single instant, their eyes met. She gave him the tiniest of nods, just the slightest incline of her chin, then turned her gaze back to Gilgamesh and took another step forward.

He didn't need her to say it. That nod, that single moment where she dipped her head barely more than a centimeter, simultaneously reassured him of her victory and bade him luck in his own fight.

That was why he could turn away from her, turn away from her battle and the King of Heroes, and race off as swiftly as his legs would carry him.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

"I'm going to enjoy this," Gilgamesh said rapturously. "I've had such a long time to consider this day, how I would pin you down and force you to swallow this curse until you bloated, how you would beg and plead with that defiled look upon your face! How _exquisite_."

"It seems your delusions have only grown wilder since last night, Gilgamesh," Saber said coolly. She set her stance and curled her fingers around the hilt of an invisible sword — in a flash, she held Excalibur. "So I shall do my best…to rid you of them!"

Saber kicked off the ground and hurled towards Gilgamesh like a bullet, swinging her sword down. Gilgamesh reached back as she approached and pulled from his treasury Merodach, the Original Sin, and met her two-handed strike with a one-handed block — and then froze, eyes wide, as her attack broke straight through his guard and slashed at his armor.

As long as Saber followed and supported the spirit of the Command Seals that had been used upon her just a few minutes before, she would be empowered to a level beyond even her best. She, as a human turned into a Servant, would approach the level of the vaunted Heroic Spirits.

Strength, Agility, Mana, and Endurance had all doubled. Luck had been pushed beyond the standard system and had become Elimination rank. The Servant Saber had surpassed even her own true abilities and knew a strength she had never had before.

Even an excellent mage like Tousaka Rin could not have given Saber this level of power.

Gilgamesh had not been prepared for such a large increase in her abilities, so he hadn't been prepared to block her suddenly doubled strength. The slash that he had tried to block had instead wrenched Merodach from his hands and carved into his armor — the golden metal, whatever it was actually made of, yielded, and a long, deep scratch was scored along the chest-plate.

But it had still not penetrated.

Saber moved to attack again, but Gilgamesh's surprise didn't last that long. Before her sword could strike him again, he leapt backwards and out of the way. Saber didn't follow.

"…I see," he said at last. "So that Master of yours is cleverer than I gave him credit for. By using two of his Command Seals, he gave you a boost in power. I had not anticipated that."

He reached back and pulled another sword from his treasury — Durandal, the Peerless Sword. "Still, it is not something overly difficult to compensate for. Come, Saber."

He leapt forward again, and so did she, and they met in the middle, crossing swords — two swords of peerless quality clashed and sent sparks of ignited mana scattering. But the power behind the blow was too much; Gilgamesh couldn't hold the clash, so he redirected Excalibur towards the ground.

If he were an expert swordsman, his technique would have succeeded, beyond a doubt. Gilgamesh, however, was not someone whose legend was earned through mastery of a weapon, but rather through the glory of his kingship.

That was why Saber's sword did not bite into the earth beneath their feet, but curved around the redirection and came swinging for Gilgamesh's neck. As such a mediocre swordsman, Gilgamesh had no hope of bringing his own sword up in time to block or parry the blow —

But he didn't need to.

Instead of the sword he carried in his hands, one of the innumerable treasures contained within the Gate of Babylon appeared and blocked her attack. It didn't deter her — she swung around again, and again, one of Gilgamesh's treasures appeared to absorb the blow.

It was only preliminary, so it didn't matter. From the beginning, her plan had never been defeating him in a contest of swordsmanship — there was no doubt that she was far more skilled in that particular area, but from the start, Gilgamesh was not a swordsman. He would not limit himself to swordplay, nor would he allow himself to fight the entire battle as that sort of competition.

He was only humoring her, after all. It was a game for him.

Her plan was to force him to use Ea, to force him to pull that unnatural sword from his treasury and use it on her — Gilgamesh, unprepared, would not predict Avalon, and so he'd be open for that single moment. If she could force him to use Ea, force him to attack her with it, then she could walk forward through that attack, shielded by Avalon, and unleash her own Noble Phantasm before he could charge his sword again.

It would have been easier, she thought, if Shirou had been witness to her battle when he had gone through the war that first time. That way, she would have seen the battle through the dream cycle, and using what she saw in that battle, she could determine a more appropriate strategy to use against her current enemy.

But that had not happened, so the only thing she could do was swing her sword again and again and again, swing and swing and swing, and fight with all of her strength, waiting for that one moment when she could end the battle, hoping that she might break through and kill him with a lucky slash, but planning for what she would do if that didn't happen.

"You are certainly persistent," Gilgamesh said haughtily. "But surely even _you_ must realize that all of this struggling is futile."

Saber backed away and took a moment to catch her breath. Gilgamesh showed no such strain, but that was only natural. Most of his attacks and his blocks were made by the Noble Phantasms pouring out of his treasury, so he didn't have to exert any real effort to keep up with her sword. It was a simple matter to deflect her incoming strikes when he didn't even have to move his arm.

Just as much so, Saber had to attack with all her strength. If she could, she would defeat him before he could pull out Ea — even though her primary plan, or perhaps it would more accurately be described as her first contingency, hinged upon his usage of that sword, the chances of her defeat rose dramatically if he should actually unleash it. It was to her advantage to defeat him before that moment, to kill him before Ea was in play, even if she had to keep using so much energy.

In another situation, it would have been dangerous. If her bond with Shirou had not been repaired, if Shirou didn't have such a well of energy to supply her with, then using so much energy would have been dangerous and costly.

But in this situation, it was not.

"Do you still intend to continue?" Gilgamesh asked. "That sort of loyalty is indeed commendable, but it is ultimately useless. Kotomine is not the type of person to be done in by a lowlife such as him. By now, that Master of yours has probably been killed."

"You underestimate Shirou, Gilgamesh," Saber said coldly. "He would not be defeated by someone such as Kotomine Kirei. As long as this bond between him and I exists, I know that my Master is still alive."

"You _over_estimate him, Saber," Gilgamesh told her. There was no humor in him. His face was entirely serious, as though carved from marble. "Even _I_ have trouble against that Holy Grail. Your Master will not last long. Truthfully, you would have won if you had simply gone after the Grail yourself. Your mistake was in reversing your roles like this."

There is some measure of truth in his words, Saber knew that. Shirou was uniquely suited to fight Gilgamesh and even Kotomine Kirei couldn't hope to stand up to a Servant, so the tactical choice would have been to switch their current roles.

But Shirou's choice to send her against Gilgamesh, to let her fight this enemy, was not a tactical choice. It was an emotional choice, a decision to let her defend her pride, and more importantly, a decision to trust in her.

That was why Gilgamesh was wrong. That was why she could fight him. Shirou trusted her with this, so it was only natural that she would trust him. He believed in her; she would believe in him.

"You're mistaken," she declared confidently. "This is indeed the correct decision. Shirou will not lose to Kotomine Kirei and I will not lose to you, Gilgamesh. For you to believe in an outcome that has no chance of coming to be — truly, such a delusion would be the end of you."

"I see." The grin returned. Behind him, the Gate of Babylon released a torrent of swords blade-first, each weapon quivering in the air, barely restrained. "Even in such a hopeless situation, you still have the strength to speak so impudently. It seems that nothing less than complete and total defeat can convince you."

As though his last word had been the command, the torrent of Noble Phantasms spewed forth from the Gate of Babylon. A normal Servant, any Servant bound by the limitations of being a Servant, wouldn't have been able to dodge the fifty swords, spears, hammers, and axes that rained down upon Saber in that instant.

But Saber had been empowered by two Command Seals. Her Agility rating was a single rank beneath Diarmuid of the Love Spot, nearly double what it had been when she dodged and blocked bullets from Lancelot's submachine guns. It was nearly triple what it would have been when she fought Gilgamesh in Shirou's first iteration of the Fifth Grail War.

That was why she could dodge them and deflect them. That was why not one of those Noble Phantasms scored more than a glancing blow upon her, why she came out of that rain unscathed as Gilgamesh pulled his favorite sword, his Ea, from the ripple of light behind him.

This was it. This was the moment she had been both dreading and waiting for. There was nothing else to do now, no other path for her to take; there was only one method of defending against the most powerful Noble Phantasm in history.

"Enuma —"

Saber stopped and thrust her hand forwards protectively as she reached deep within herself for that sheath, for the golden light of utopia made real —

"_Elish_!"

"Avalon!"

At the same moment her Noble Phantasm was activated, Saber pushed herself forward and kicked off the ground. The sheath that her hand had grasped as though it had merely been invisible scattered into golden light and formed a barrier around her body. The blast of wind and light from Ea crashed against it, but it was useless — Avalon was not merely a defense, it was complete isolation. When utilized in such a manner, she was transported to the paradise of Avalon, so that even though she stood in the real world, she existed in a separate one.

Like that, nothing could stain her. The dirtiness of the real world, the filth of any imperfection, the attack from lesser Noble Phantasms — all of it was simply rejected.

The light from Ea parted around the barrier and washed harmlessly over it as Saber pushed through the attack, charging towards the stunned Gilgamesh, who still hadn't reacted —

"EX —"

"SABER!"

"— CALIBUR!"

The golden sword, the greatest holy sword ever forged, a prayer named glory tempered into the form of a sword, swung downwards. The ultimate slash, the blast of light and prana equal to a god's magecraft, struck the King of Heroes at a point-blank range. Avoiding was not an option. Defending was not an option.

In an instant, in a flash of light and power, Saber struck with everything she had. The flash of light parted the golden armor, cleaved through it as though it were nothing, and utterly decimated the flesh beneath.

On the outside, there was nothing but a spray of blood that jetted out of his back.

A moment of silence descended over them, a long stretch of quiet where the results of the battle were made clear, then, in spite of his destroyed body, Gilgamesh hefted a sigh.

"Such a spiteful woman you are," he said to her. He lifted his hand to cup her cheek. Saber didn't flinch at his touch, nor even really react at all. She raised her head and her eyes to his and stared at him, coldly, calmly. "You opposed me to the very end."

There was no place for gloating and taunts; this was a battle, not a fight. In fights, in combat, it was not uncommon to use insults and taunts to unnerve the enemy, nor was it uncommon to boast once victory had been obtained and tell the defeated to "try again later."

In battle, there was no place for any such thing. In battle, it was not a competition, it was a struggle. Battle was to the death. Gloating had no place there — killing was not something to gloat about.

"But I shall forgive you," Gilgamesh said. "Some things are beautiful precisely because they cannot be obtained."

His hand fell away and the King of Heroes faded into dust.

"Goodbye, King of Knights. It was indeed fun."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Behind the Temple, hidden by the main building, there was a large lake. Untouched and pristine, it was like the lair of some holy beast, the palace of a dragon king — Ryûgû-jô, like in the legend. The water was clear and pure, like glass, and the grass that grew around it was all the same perfect shade of green.

On the edge of that very same lake, Shirou and Rin had fought Kuzuki and Caster, and the untouched lake had been tainted by blood. That perfect grass had been dyed red and the clear water near the lake's edge had been stained a murky pink. The crisp, clean air had been fouled by the rancid stench of death and decay, and the soft earth had transformed into mucky crimson clay.

But even that was preferable to the state it was in when Shirou came upon it.

Red light bathed the entire area, so the clear, pristine waters now looked like a sea of blood. The evil black void in the air, before which Ilya had been strung up like a sacrifice, spewed forth black tar that dropped in great blobs into the water. The grass and flowers that had grown wildly about the lake had all wilted and died, killed by the curses and hate flowing over them like mud.

And the one responsible for it all, the one who had stripped Ilya down and crucified her, who had unlatched the gate that held back All the World's Evils, stood beneath it all with a cruel, satisfied smile.

"Kotomine!"

The name growled past his lips before he could even think of stopping it, and the figure in priestly robes who stood so casually amidst the destruction smiled even more broadly and laughed.

"Welcome, Emiya Shirou. It seems that you're the last Master of this Holy Grail War, who somehow managed to survive until the very end."

"Speaking from one last Master to another, huh?"

The irony was not lost on Shirou — the last surviving Master of the Fourth Holy Grail War would be fighting the last surviving Master of the Fifth Holy Grail War. Not far away, their Servants were clashing as well.

It couldn't have been more poetically ironic if someone had written it that way.

"Oh?" Kotomine chuckled again. "It's strange, Emiya Shirou, that you would speak to me in such a manner when I was certain that the first words out of your mouth would be a demand for me to release the vessel of the Grail — but I suppose, knowing as much as you seem to, you decided not to waste your breath on a request that I would not fulfill anyway. It seems I underestimated you."

He shrugged his broad shoulders. "But I suppose Emiya Kiritsugu must have educated you far better than I had first thought — you are already aware of the nature of this Holy Grail, are you not?"

Kirei gestured broadly. "Are you not already aware that this foul black mud is the contents of the Grail, a colorless power that has been tainted by an existence far beyond anything a human could possibly comprehend? Are you not already aware that this taint is the same disaster that caused that conflagration ten years ago at the conclusion of the Fourth Holy Grail War? I can only imagine how much Emiya Kiritsugu must have told you."

The arms dropped, then folded themselves behind Kirei's back again. "However, I'm afraid that I cannot allow you to interfere. The vessel must remain here until the Grail is ready, and until that happens, my wish cannot come true. If you leave, Emiya Shirou, I will not pursue you, but if you attack, then I will have no choice but to end your life."

"You can try!"

Shirou rushed forward. He didn't bother drawing his sword — in this moment, there was no use for it, anyway. If he was going to defeat Kirei, it wouldn't be with his sword, not unless he wanted to risk Ilya's life, too.

No, he needed to close the gap between them and do as he had done the first time — use the dagger, the Azoth dagger that had ended Kirei's life once before.

"The gap between us is more than physical, Emiya Shirou!" Kirei laughed. The tendrils of black mud around him came alive like snakes and lashed out. "The differences in our levels of experience are too great! Even if you risk your life to win, you have no hope of defeating me!"

If he had been an ordinary human, even if he had been an ordinary magus using Reinforcement to boost his abilities, Shirou would not have been able to dodge all of the black tentacles that struck at him like vipers. The moment he laid eyes upon that mud, however, the buzzing inside his chest had erupted, screamed, "UNNATURAL," and his body was suddenly filled with energy and power.

The tentacles were too slow, but they were also too numerous. With the new energy and power that flooded through his body, it was incredibly easy to dodge them, to duck and weave around the black mud that wanted to destroy him, curse him, drown him, but even so, he was blocked the moment he tried to move forward.

And then, he had a moment of realization.

…He was stupid.

In the first place, the essence of Emiya Shirou is not "Saber." Though he had taken more after her, though he had come far closer to her than any other iteration of Emiya Shirou ever did, Emiya Shirou was always an Archer first.

In that case, distance should not be an issue. Since he did not have to get close to attack, there was no reason to waste such time doing just that. Why bother? Why waste so much effort to get close when he could simply project a sword or ten and rain it down upon his enemy? Kotomine Kirei was not a Servant; he had no counter for a maneuver of that sort.

"Trace…_on_."

In the air behind him, swords formed, first two, then five, then ten, then twenty. Sixteen nameless existences formed around his head, joined by three Noble Phantasms and a single Azoth dagger. They were, to a one, copies, fakes pulled from the hill of swords that made up Emiya Shirou's alien perspective.

The moment they had all finished forming, they shot off as streaks of light towards Kotomine Kirei, who, for the second time Shirou had ever seen him, looked caught between surprise and sudden fear. Of course — Kirei would not have believed him capable of such magic, and Gilgamesh had probably been too busy seething to bother informing his partner in crime of the limits of Shirou's ability.

But Kirei need not have been afraid. The reason why Shirou's tactic wouldn't work revealed itself before a single blade could touch Kirei's flesh — the black tentacles lashed out and batted them all away as if to protect the fake priest who would baptize Angra Mainyu's descent into the real world.

Shirou's brow furrowed.

So he couldn't kill Kirei at range. That meant he had to get close, close enough to stab him with the Azoth dagger. That also meant he had to get past the tendrils of black tar that were even now still lashing out at him, that had also swept away from him and batted his swords (and even three Noble Phantasms) aside like flies.

…Wait.

…He was stupid.

"Trace, _on_!"

The air filled with swords, all kinds of swords — swords from Asia, swords from Europe, swords from Africa; swords from the Renaissance, swords from the Middle Ages, swords from the Dark Ages, swords from the Feudal Era; katana, long swords, short swords, tucks, spathae, gladii, tulwar, dirks, daggers, knives — any and every type of sword imaginable. Some were Noble Phantasms, some were ordinary, mundane swords, some were lost treasures.

"Freeze out, sword barrel full open!"

All at once, they flew. Like a rain, like a torrent rushing down from the heavens, the sea of swords thundered down. The tentacles that had previously focused on Shirou retracted and focused instead on deflecting the steel that cascaded towards Kotomine like a rushing waterfall.

That was all Shirou needed.

He rushed in, ignoring the swords falling down around him, and ducked and weaved around whatever tendrils of black mud came after him. The speed that filled his body, the power and dexterity that he now possessed, it was nothing like Saber's. He was not breaking the sound barrier, nor traveling at supersonic speeds. He was not a blur that was nearly invisible to human eyes, nor was he dancing gracefully around any and everything that came his way. It was nothing like Saber's incredible speed and skill.

No, it wasn't like Saber's, but it was beyond Kotomine Kirei's.

"EMIYA SHIROU!"

A solid fist came for his head as Shirou dodged the last tentacle and approached Kotomine, but Shirou saw it coming before it got anywhere near him and ducked beneath it, surging up behind Kirei's guard. There was no time, no way Kirei could react fast enough to get out of the way, retreat before —

The Azoth dagger whistled as it scythed through the air. The tip cut easily through cloth and skin and sinew and lodged itself deep in Kirei's black heart. There was no blood, no shorn off chunks of flesh, but the force behind the stab sent Kirei stumbling backwards as he attempted to keep his footing.

Shirou's hand left the hilt. His body curled inwards towards his belly as he wound his muscles tight like a spring, then launched forward full-strength.

"This sword —!"

The follow-up punch was loaded with Prana, enough to activate the Azoth dagger ten times over, and slammed into the jewel wound intricately into the pommel.

"Läßt!"

There were no outward signs of the damage done, but the amount of prana that exploded out of the Azoth dagger and into Kirei's body would have been enough to kill a Servant. Even still, Kirei's focus didn't seem to be on that, but on the dagger itself, still lodged deeply in his chest.

"This sword," he murmured weakly, "why did you…?"

"It was a gift from Tousaka," Shirou said calmly. "Her goodbye to you."

"I see." Kirei's head tilted backwards and he looked up at the void in the sky. An ironic grin curled on his lips. "Yes, I did…give this to a girl…ten years ago…on a…whim…"

He took three stumbling steps backward, then finally fell down into the black tar that he himself had brought into the world, the unholy mud in which he had tried to baptize all of mankind.

That was how Kotomine Kirei died.

With him gone, whatever power he had used to crucify Ilya in front of the black void disappeared. She fell bonelessly into Shirou's arms, and he carried her back away from that void, then wrapped her in his coat and gently laid her on the grass.

That left only the one thing.

Shirou turned back to the void, that endlessly deep void through which Angra Mainyu would try to claw its way out into the world. The buzzing in his chest, which had dulled somewhat in the thrill of battle, erupted full force and rang in his ears.

This void, this black sun, the tainted Grail that wanted nothing more than to destroy all of mankind — he had to destroy it.

_Unnatural_.

A voice hissed in Shirou's ears, drowning out all of the buzzing and ringing.

_Unnatural_.

It overrode everything else in Shirou's head — every thought, every emotion, every feeling and sensation — until all the existed was that voice, that hiss.

_Unnatural_.

It was a pure voice, but also a cruel voice. It was childlike, with a childlike view of right and wrong. The Grail was — _UNNATURAL_ — a stain on the world that needed to be removed, so the voice demanded that it be removed.

_Destroy it._

_Destroy it._

_Destroy it._

_DestroyitDestroyitDestroyit —_

_DESTROY IT._

There was nothing else. There was only that singular purpose. The Grail, the black, hate-filled Angra Mainyu, had to be destroyed.

▅▅▅▅▅▅ lifted his arm and unsheathed Escalvatine. It would only take one blow, one attack with nothing held back. Like that, it would be destroyed. Like that, ▅▅▅▅▅▅ would destroy it. The Holy Grail, the tainted cup that held the spirit of the Persian God of Darkness, All the World's Evils personified, would be destroyed.

Circuits that had never been used before, that had never been seen before, that ▅▅▅▅▅▅ had never even known existed, turned on. Prana swirled and flowed through them, through those Circuits and into the Sword of Rapture, that sword that could end the world. The blade began to glow.

▅▅▅▅▅▅ lifted his arms and hefted the sword above his head. In a moment, once the sword had finished charging, he would swing it down and destroy the Grail. The unnaturalness would be purged. The unnaturalness would be annihilated. Yes, that was the purpose. That was the reason for ▅▅▅▅▅▅'s existence. That was —

"Shirou."

It was Saber's voice that called for him.

Everything halted. The charge up sequence was stopped and the new Circuits fizzled and deactivated. The Prana that had been surging dissipated like mist before the sun. In his chest, a warmth burst to life and spread throughout his body, filling his belly and his heart and reaching all the way to the top of his head and the tips of his fingers and toes.

The machine that had replaced Emiya Shirou was replaced with Emiya Shirou.

Escalvatine lowered and Shirou turned around to find her waiting for him.

"Saber."

He did not congratulate her and she did not congratulate him. In the first place, there was no need for it. Victory had already been decided at the moment they had climbed up those stairs. At that moment, the possibility of any other result had been rejected, so there was no need to congratulate her for winning — it would be like congratulating the sky for being blue or the sun for shining.

For a long moment, that silence stretched, and they both awkwardly tried to avoid the simple fact that only one task now remained for them: destroying the Holy Grail.

In the end, it was Saber who broke it.

"Shirou," she said solemnly, "it is time."

"…I know," he replied at length.

She didn't seem to need more than that. Without pomp or circumstance, she gave a single, short nod and took three long strides to stand at his side. Without any effort at all, she summoned her sword and took aim at the black void in the sky from whence tar polluting the lake originated.

This was it, then, Shirou knew. This was the end.

After this, Saber would disappear. She would fade, return to her own time, and finally die upon that lonely hill, as history said she had. As he had known last time, she would never again be a Servant — by destroying the Grail, she broke the contract that had brought her into this time in the first place.

In other words, it was goodbye, well and truly. This was the last moment they would have together in this life, and maybe the last moment they may ever have period. After this, time, space, and death would separate them, and even Shirou, with all of the treasures he had copied from Gilgamesh, did not have a method of breaching the gap that would come between them.

From the beginning, this had always been the hardest moment, the one obstacle that Shirou would have the most difficulty overcoming. From the very beginning, he had known, if never acknowledged, that this would be most trying task in the entirety of the Grail War, that this would be the one event he could not change, no matter how hard he tried.

In the end, Saber must return to her own time.

In the end, Saber must die.

It was an unavoidable truth that no amount of preparation could prevent.

Saber looked at him over her shoulder as the silence stretched on — without a doubt, she knew what was staying his hand.

"Shirou," she said quietly, "this is something we must do."

"You're right," he acknowledged reluctantly.

It was unavoidable. It didn't matter whether she struck the Grail or not — inevitably, it was the Grail that could keep her in this time, and so she would vanish the moment the Grail was destroyed.

No, more than that, Saber _had_ to strike the finishing blow. The act of destroying the Grail would simultaneously void the contract she had made with the World.

But they needed to be sure, so he'd attack it, too.

Shirou stepped up beside her and lifted his sword, too.

"Saber," he said as Escalvatine filled with Prana; on his hand, his final Command Seal blazed and glowed, "destroy the Grail."

Simultaneously, they lifted their glowing swords, and simultaneously, the attacks were unleashed. Light and fire mixed and comingled, cutting through the sky and razing the earth as it cleaved the void and destroyed it.

In that attack, with that single combined blow, the tainted Holy Grail, the black sun through which Angra Mainyu had tried to crawl into the world, was unmade. In its wake, nothing remained behind. The mountain that had been obliterated was a flat field, and in the distance, peeking over the horizon, dawn shone in a gleaming gold light.

That simply, the Fifth Holy Grail War came to a close.

Shirou's arms fell back to his side. Escalvatine hung limply from his right hand, and in his chest, there was a strange sort of disbelief — in some sense, it didn't seem real. After all that had happened, for everything to end so simply and easily seemed impossible.

But it had.

"…This is it, Shirou."

"Yeah," he found himself saying. "It's…all over."

She turned to him and looked up into his gaze with her own verdant green eyes. In that moment, he wanted to embrace her, to hold her and never let go.

But he mustn't do that.

"I have fulfilled our contract," she told him. "I have protected you and stood by you. I was your sword and struck down your enemies. These promises I made to you at the beginning of this War…and even at the beginning of the first one, I'm glad I was able to keep them."

"Thank you, Saber," Shirou said, with all his heart. "For _everything_."

She hesitated for a moment, glanced uncertainly to the side, but after that, she steeled her expression into determination, took one swift step forward, and pressed her lips against his.

The kiss lasted only a fraction of a moment — a handful of seconds, nothing more — but that instant seemed to stretch into eternity, a moment of bliss and sorrow and longing that conveyed all those emotions all at once. In his chest, his heart twisted and wrung, and he wished that he could stand there with her forever.

And then it was over and she pulled away.

"Shirou," she whispered, "I know you have heard me say it once before, but I feel that I must say it again."

"Saber…"

"I love you."

And then she was gone, well and truly. The warm, wonderful human being who had been in his arms just moments before had vanished into the wind, and all the emotions, all of the pain, sadness, and longing that had filled him that day when he had first said goodbye to her, returned a hundredfold.

She was gone. She had left this time and this place, left him behind, to go back to the place she belonged.

She returned to her lonely pilgrimage, the destiny of the King of Knights to die upon that hill. No sign of her remained in the world that Shirou knew — the grass beneath her feet had straightened, her scent upon the wind had scattered, her radiant visage had become nothing more than a memory. With her, she had also taken Shirou — what was important, at least — and so it might be said, even though two people were still on that hill, that only one of them was truly there. When Saber left, she had taken everything of Shirou with her.

But she had left everything of herself with Shirou.

The memories of her touch, her smile, her love — they all remained with him. Even if they faded, even if it became hard to remember her voice or her face, even if those precious memories wore away with time, he could never forget the love she had given him, the most wondrous gift of all, and he would never once walk his path alone.

It was the destiny of Emiya Shirou to become a hero, and where once his success had been in question, there was no longer any doubt that he would reach the vaunted halls of legend.

Because he carried inside of him, etched onto his heart, the Pride of the King of Knights, there was no possible way he could fail.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Lovers, bound together by **_**Fate**_**,  
>Separated at Dawn,<br>Searching, waiting, Endlessly,  
>Wishing that it could always<br>**_**Stay Night**

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Normal End**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**This is it, folks, the first ending. This is Normal End (for those of you who forgot what's written at the top of this chapter). This is the bittersweet Nasu-style ending. Up next is the short Normal End epilogue, and then the Good End, where those of you dissatisfied with this ending can find satisfaction.**

**The epilogue that follows this is, itself, mostly done. It should be showing up in a couple of days at the latest.**

**You know, I thought this chapter would wind up much shorter than it actually did.**

**Note: This is the raw chapter, so there're probably a few mistakes and I'll probably expand a little bit after I sit down and look at this for a while. With that in mind, however, the only thing any expansions will do is make everything flow better — all of the events should remain as they are, so you really won't be missing much if you don't read the edits.**

_**Even if I walk that path by myself, I'll never truly be alone.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	16. Aiming For That Place

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Revenant Normal: Aiming For That Place  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"Trace…_on_."

_Judge the concept of creation._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Visualize the basic structure._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Duplicate the component materials._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Match the original craftsmanship._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Sympathize with the experience of its growth._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Reproduce the accumulated age._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

_Excel every manufacturing process._

ERROR. BLUEPRINT MISSING.

Shirou let his hand drop and allowed himself a small, sad smile.

That was it, then. If ever there was a clue, if ever there was evidence that it was all over, that everything had ended, that was it. With this, there was no possible way to deny that they had accomplished their goal, that they had, once and for all, shut down Fuyuki City's Holy Grail System and everything that it entailed.

He sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck.

"Yeah," he said to no one in particular, "I kind of figured it would happen like this."

"Shirou?" Rin's voice called tentatively.

Shirou turned around and met Rin's slightly-concerned blue eyes. The broken glass that she had repaired that night a lifetime ago had been pushed aside to let her out, and her hair, longer than it had ever been, flowed down over her shoulders and her back in gentle waves. Ever since she'd graduated high school, she'd taken to wearing her hair down instead of in her trademark twin tails.

She seemed to recognize what he'd been trying to do after a moment of searching his face, because her expression softened and she frowned at him sympathetically.

"It's gone, then?" she asked knowingly.

"Yeah," he admitted. "Like it was never there in the first place."

She sighed. "You already knew it would happen that way, didn't you?"

He shook his head. "As long as there was the Grail —"

"— there was still a connection," she finished. "So without a connection to Saber, you don't have an image of Avalon…?"

A regretful look crossed her face and she looked away, as though she couldn't bear to meet his eyes.

"Two weeks," she said miserably, "or, well, I guess it was more like a month for you, huh? You can't even fall in love like a normal person, can you? Most couples _never_ form a connection that powerful, but _you_ did it in the span of about a _month_."

Shirou shrugged awkwardly, because he couldn't exactly deny it. He'd said it before, after all, even if he'd never voiced it aloud. The throne of his soul, the seat upon which his own life should be placed, had been empty until Saber had come along. Everything in him that should have been dedicated to his own life and his own self-preservation had been instead dedicated entirely to her.

It was unnatural, he supposed. It wasn't something a human could do, at least not someone within the bounds of a normal human perspective. Rin herself had told him that he was twisted, distorted.

But he couldn't regret it.

It was not within the realm of Emiya Shirou's ability to regret meeting and loving Saber.

"I'm sorry," Rin said finally. "If we hadn't shut down the Grail —"

"Don't be," he assured her. "The Grail needed to be shut down, so you don't need to feel bad just because I can't Trace Avalon anymore. Besides, even if I've lost the blueprint for the sheath, the image still exists —" he pressed his palm to his chest, over his heart "— right here. And nothing can take that away."

Rin smiled sardonically.

"Geez," she said. "There I go, feeling sorry for you, and you decide to say something so sappy that there's no way I can keep pitying you. You really are one of a kind, you know that, Shirou?"

Shirou chuckled a little. "If you say so…"

He turned away and looked out over the wall of the Emiya compound at the sunset. At this point, it was impossible to tell whether it was rising or setting, painting the sky in oranges, reds, and golden yellows. Every time he watched the sun set or rise, it reminded him of that moment on the hill, that moment when she had professed her love for him.

That was why Emiya Shirou's Reality Marble, Unlimited Blade Works, contained on its horizon a sunrise — a hill of swords, bound on its edges by the majesty of that ever-distant utopia.

It was different from Archer's Unlimited Blade Works; for all the similarities, Archer's cynical, war-torn perspective was far darker and far more desolate. Each sword marked a person Archer could not save, a person Archer had been forced to kill, or a person Archer had had to abandon. Each new sword was a mark of his failures.

The swords in Shirou's Unlimited Blade Works were reminders, reminders of the cost of his ideals and the cost of abandoning them. They were a burden he had to shoulder, a burden and a responsibility that he would carry with him for the rest of his life. They were not marks of failure, they were reminders of the _cost_ of failure.

"Is Sakura home yet?"

"No, but she should be back soon. School ended about an hour and a half ago, so after she finishes up at the Archery Club, she'll come straight here. It's her turn to cook dinner, after all."

"Oh — yeah, you're right. She hasn't missed a day since she woke up — wow, that was two years ago."

"I know. Seems so amazing that it's already been two years since the Grail War, doesn't it, Shirou?"

"Yeah. It seems like just yesterday that…"

Shirou trailed off.

It had been two and a half years since the Grail War had ended. A lot had happened in that time frame, but the most important thing was probably the dismantlement of the Fuyuki Grail. Shirou had wanted to do it himself — just go down to that cavern and blow it all to pieces — but Rin had put her foot down and insisted that they do it right so that they didn't screw anything up.

So, after graduating high school, she got into the Clock Tower and had made the acquaintance of one of the Lords — Lord El-Melloi the Second, Waver Velvet — who, it turned out, was a veteran of the Fourth Holy Grail War. It hadn't taken long for the two of them to raise a stink and get the Association off its ass, and the end result was the dismantlement of the Grail System.

Like that, the object that had nearly caused the destruction of all mankind had been neatly and summarily torn down.

Unfortunately, the Grail had already exacted a curse upon Shirou, because the second most important thing to happen in the space of that two years was Ilya's death.

It wasn't especially surprising — Ilya was a homunculus built and modified specifically to act as the vessel for the Grail, so she hadn't been designed to live past the War. The fact that she'd hung on for a year before finally succumbing to the stress of having housed the combined power of seven Heroic Spirits was already a miracle, so asking for there to be a method to reverse the damage with anything short of Avalon was just unreasonable.

"It seems like just yesterday that Ilya was bouncing around the house," Rin finished for him.

Shirou didn't say anything. He didn't need to — Ilya's death had hit all of them hard, even Rin. Fuji-nee had bawled her eyes out about how young Ilya was, how it was such a tragedy, how it happened too soon…

Shirou liked to think that Fuji-nee had cried so much because he hadn't.

Things had changed after that — Shirou found that he couldn't remember the last time he'd stayed home for more than a month since he'd graduated high school and Ilya died. Rin, of course, had headed off to the Clock Tower and dropped out of contact for weeks at a time. During the rare days when Shirou was home, Fuji-nee would burst in screaming and shouting for breakfast or dinner, glance at Ilya's seat, and suddenly fall silent.

Sakura…

Sakura seemed to handle it the best of them; there'd been no crying or shouting, no silent tears, nor any other outward sign that she missed Ilya, who had been such a staple of their life for that year.

Except, sometimes, Sakura would make breakfast or dinner and set one place too many at the table.

Rin broke the silence.

"So, how long are you planning on staying, this time?" she asked.

"About three months, I think," Shirou answered after a moment. "There hasn't been much happening recently, so I guess I don't have anything more important to do."

"What, so there's a shortage of people in need of saving right now?" Rin asked sardonically.

Between complete strangers, that kind of remark would've been incredibly rude, but…

Shirou laughed. "Well, when you put it like _that_…"

They fell into an easy silence.

Yes, Shirou decided, Rin was probably his best friend. If someone had told him that three years ago, though, he _definitely_ wouldn't have believed them. Really, him, best friends with the school idol? _No one_ would've believed it. The fake janitor, friends with the most popular girl in school — it was like the punchline to a bad joke.

But then the Grail War happened…

Sometimes, it was hard to believe that it had already been two and a half years since the Grail War, since he'd said goodbye to Saber. It felt like it'd only been yesterday that he had kissed her upon that hill and watched her disappear. It felt like it had only been yesterday since last he had held her in his arms, embraced her, made love to her. It felt like it had only been yesterday since they were fighting together, side by side, against the likes of Heracles, Gilgamesh, and Cúchulainn.

It felt like yesterday, but it had already been more than two years.

It felt like it should be more difficult, too, like he should miss her so much more than he did, but whenever he thought of her, his chest filled with warmth and it was like she was standing right next to him, smiling. It didn't matter that they were separated, because whenever he thought of her, that distance closed, the boundaries that kept them apart vanished, and they were together again, if for only for a brief moment.

The words from a half-remembered dream fell off his tongue.

"If you would meet again, two miracles must occur," he muttered under his breath. "One must wait endlessly and the other must search tirelessly."

The image of her figure, upon the hill, dressed in a simple white dress, smiling…

"Did you say something, Shirou?"

"Huh?" Shirou blinked and looked over at Rin, then shook his head. "Oh. No, it was nothing."

"I see," she said neutrally.

They fell into another silence as the last rays of sunlight stretched across the horizon. Sakura would be home, soon, and then they'd all eat dinner together for the first time in nearly a year.

"Shirou?" Rin called.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're back."

"Huh?" Shirou turned back to her and grinned. "What's this? Is your dere-dere side showing through, Rin?"

She flushed.

"I-Idiot!" she shouted. "I was just trying to be nice! All I was saying is that it'll be good for everyone to be together again, that's it! You don't need to be so sarcastic about it!"

"Alright, alright, I give, I give," Shirou surrendered, laughing.

Rin huffed, crossed her arms, and turned her head away, refusing to look at him.

Shirou smiled.

Search tirelessly, huh? Looks like he'd have to see about stocking up on energy drinks.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**If you would meet each other again,  
>Two miracles must occur:<br>One must wait endlessly,  
>And the other must search tirelessly.<br>If your faith is strong,  
>One waiting, one searching,<br>Stretching across eternity,  
>Then you shall one day be reunited.<br>Take heart, Arturia,  
>Take heart, Shirou,<br>For your utopia will one day  
>Become more than just a dream.<strong>_

The sun shone down from a perfect sky. The grass blew in a gentle breeze. The air was warm and crisp and perfect.

After a long journey, stretching across vast lands and numerous battlefields, he had finally found what he was looking for.

Warm hands, small and calloused but undeniably feminine, cupped themselves around his face. Beneath his hands, he held her shoulders, and though she seemed so much smaller than he remembered, the wonderful feeling of holding her again was blissfully familiar.

Green eyes met gray. Neither of them bothered to stop the smile.

"I'm back, Saber."

"Welcome back, Shirou."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Normal End — Close**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Here we go, the first epilogue. **

_**Not even death can stop Fate.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	17. Everything In These Hands

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Chapter XVII (Good End): Everything In These Hands  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

— Shirou.

He had prepared himself for this since that very first night. This was the reason he had sought out Escalvatine. This was the reason he had made that contract. Everything that had happened had lead up to this one moment.

This was not about grudges or pride, this was about winning. It was not a matter of trust or faith, nor upholding a belief. It was about success, about accomplishing what he had set out to do since that first night. The question wasn't about whether or not he trusted Saber to fight Gilgamesh; the question was about which of them was most _suited_ to fight him.

There was no doubt that Saber was more physically capable. She had all the advantages of a Servant, all the strength, speed, and power of a human who had been elevated to an existence beyond the capabilities of even the most powerful of magi. In that regard, Saber was the more appropriate choice by far.

But this issue wasn't physical capability. It wasn't about who was stronger, faster, hardier, or more powerful. If it was just about that, then Saber could have trounced just about every other Servant in the War. No, it wasn't about physical capability, it was about _compatibility_. It was about who was more strategically suited to fight Gilgamesh, who was a better match up, who could fight him on more even terms.

In that regard, Saber lost. The only thing she had that could compete with Gilgamesh at his best was Avalon, and Avalon was a defensive armament; it could only be deployed to defend against an attack, not to strike the opponent. In a contest of attack power or Noble Phantasms, Gilgamesh would defeat her entirely.

But Shirou had Escalvatine. Shirou had a weapon that could compete with Gilgamesh's Ea, a weapon that could defeat their enemy. Shirou also had Unlimited Blade Works, with which he could counter the treasures from Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon.

Yes, that was how this needed to happen. This was the best possible option.

"I'll do it, Saber," he told her seriously. "I'll be the one to fight Gilgamesh, so I'll leave it to you to rescue Ilya."

There was no doubt that Shirou and Saber could defeat Gilgamesh so much easier if they fought him together — as a team, there were few who could have hoped to match them, especially now. It would have been simple to team up and defeat Gilgamesh, overwhelming him with their combined abilities.

It would have been simple, but it wouldn't have worked.

To team up meant that there would be no one to rely on to defeat Kirei and rescue Ilya, and that was unacceptable to Shirou. He refused to sacrifice Ilya for this. No one was going to die, no one except Kirei and Gilgamesh.

But someone needed to fight Gilgamesh, so Shirou would. He would rely on Saber to save Ilya while he defeated Gilgamesh.

There was a grudge between the King of Heroes and the King of Knights, but there was also a grudge between Gilgamesh and Emiya Shirou. In the end, only one grudge could be settled; it was just more convenient that it would be Shirou's.

But what remained was whether or not Saber would accept this decision. After all, she was a Servant, a being far beyond what even the most exceptional human could hope to achieve, and her physical capabilities were far better suited to combating another Servant than Shirou's were. She would know that as surely as he did.

But as Shirou knew, Gilgamesh was not an enemy who could be defeated like the other Servants. He was not a swordsman, nor was he a mounted knight, a maddened warrior, an assassin, a spearman, or a magus. For any of those enemies, Saber would have been enough. For an archer, however, a fighter who attacked from range, one who fired all of the treasures of the world at that, her swordsmanship would not be enough.

And against Ea, Excalibur would not be enough.

Saber seemed to hesitate for a single moment, and Shirou had no doubt that she was running through all of the pros and cons in her head the same as he had been, but after that moment passed, she gave him a slow, solemn nod.

"Very well, then," she said. "It shall be as you say, Shirou. I will defeat Kotomine and rescue Ilyasviel while you fight Gilgamesh."

The knot of apprehension wound around Shirou's lungs loosened and he let some of the tension in his shoulders seep away.

"If that is the case, however," Saber began, "then there is something I must give to you, Shirou."

She reached her hands up to her chest and splayed her fingers out across the fabric of her blouse as though she were cradling something to her. She let out a sigh — a short, mournful sigh, as though she were parting with her most valuable treasure — and there was a flash of gold light; deep inside his heart, something in Shirou resonated with a pleasant warmth.

The light coalesced and became solid, bending and twisting into a vaguely oblong shape as it shone like a newly born star. The glow lessened, became actual gold, etched with intricate blue enamel, and sublimated into an achingly familiar figure. Shirou knew it by heart, knew it better than anything else — he didn't need to Trace it, didn't need to go through the eight steps, because he knew it so well that he could craft it perfectly in an instant.

Held gently in her hands, laid out across her arms, was the brilliant sheath, Avalon, the Ever-distant Utopia.

That was when Shirou realized what she was doing.

"Saber," he tried, "you don't —"

"If you are to face Gilgamesh, then you will have far greater need of this than I, Shirou," Saber interrupted before he could get very far. "Even if I cannot be there to fight with you, so long as you carry this sheath, I will be able to protect you."

"Saber," he protested, "I can't take this."

"No matter how skilled he is, Kotomine Kirei is still human," Saber told him. "He will be easy for a Servant of my stature to dispatch, so I will have no need of this to defeat him. The enemy you face is an enemy that poses a greater threat than any we have yet faced. It would put me at ease to know that you carried this into your fight with Gilgamesh, Shirou."

She held the sheath out to him in offering as though she were handing over the most precious of gifts — in a way, she was. Shirou hesitated for a moment, only a moment, but remembered that they were partners. He was the Master, she was the Servant, but those titles were just words. He was Sword, she was Sheath, but he was also Sheath, and she was also Sword. They were partners, equals, and right now, his equal wanted to protect him in the only way she could for the coming battle.

He reached out and placed his hands atop the sheath, then opened up his heart to that blindingly beautiful light, that ideal that both he and Saber strove for — there was a flash of gold light, a sudden warmth that shot up his arms, and like that, Shirou's hands fell onto Saber's. In his chest, Utopia sang out.

Saber's fingers curled around his protectively.

"Please return safely," she whispered softly.

For an instant, Shirou thought she was talking to the sheath, asking it to return to her when everything had finished, but after a moment had passed, he realized that she was talking to _him_, asking _him_ to survive and return to her whole and unharmed. The sheath, in the end, was of no consequence. It was a tool, a very useful tool that symbolized the dream that Saber had sought for the entirety of her kingship, but a tool nonetheless. It was, in the end, only an object.

But Shirou was not. He was a person, Saber's most important person, and he could not be replaced. To ask him to return safely, to cherish his life more than she cherished the sheath that embodied her dreams, it left Shirou with a pleasant ache in his chest.

To such a heartfelt request, there was only one way Shirou could respond.

"I promise."

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Bright gray moonlight bathed the city and the mountain as Shirou and Saber made the slow climb up the Temple steps. Behind them, the sky was cast into a faint bluish glow, and ahead of them, the ominous pink-red light of the tainted Grail radiated menacingly. At their backs, there was the moon, watching patiently, stoically, waiting to see how the War would end, waiting to see who would win.

The mountain beneath their feet seemed alive, like some sort of enormous monster rousing from centuries of sleep. The mana around them was thick and oppressive, a syrupy pressure that weaved and pushed around them, soaking into their lungs as warm air seeped down from the gate like the rancid breath of a demon. The trees shook and shivered and the earth beneath them buzzed with barely-contained energy.

Behind the Temple that awaited them above, the Grail was beginning to manifest.

"Shirou…"

"Yeah, I know."

Dawn was approaching. Everything would be over before the sun rose. Soon, Kotomine would be killed, Gilgamesh would be defeated, Ilya would be saved, the Grail would be destroyed…and Saber would go back to her own time to die upon that lonely hill.

It was just as he had first thought: destroying the church would start everything else, a domino chain that would cascade into the end of the Grail War, whether they killed Kirei, Gilgamesh, and Cúchulainn or not. Now, there were only two enemies left, only two enemies that still remained, and the moment they were defeated, the only remaining obstacle would be the Grail. Once it, too, had been destroyed, Saber would leave, would return to that hill, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Oh, he was certain that Rin, genius that she was, would probably have been able to find a way for Saber to remain in this world, in this time, but even if he could do something like that, he wouldn't. Shirou understood, better than anyone else, that Saber would choose duty above all else. She wouldn't be Saber if she didn't.

That was why he couldn't ask her to stay — it was a denial of the person who was Saber, Arturia Pendragon. To even ask was stepping upon her pride, and stepping on her pride was the one thing that Shirou was absolutely forbidden from doing.

So he couldn't turn back, not now. He couldn't be selfish. If he truly loved Saber, then he couldn't do that one forbidden thing, so the only thing left for him, the only path forward, was to finish this battle and bid her farewell, no matter how much it hurt.

"This is it, Saber. There's only one thing left for us to do," he told her. "When we reach the top, I'll stay and fight Gilgamesh while you go and rescue Ilya. No hesitating, no second guessing — once everything starts, we'll be separated until it's over, so you can't come and help me and I can't come and help you."

"It will be as you say, Shirou," Saber agreed calmly. "Yes, I will focus the entirety of my concentration on Kotomine Kirei and rescuing Ilyasviel, and it will be you who faces Gilgamesh."

"Yeah. And Saber…"

He stopped and so did she. He turned to her and she gave him a curious look. He lifted his left hand and looked down at it where, underneath his glove, all three of his Command Seals still sat, untouched and unused. There hadn't been a need for them so far, so he hadn't used even one of them yet, but this was the end, and it was a waste to have gone through the entire War without using them.

The first time, he'd already used two of them by this point, so the last one had been left in reserve, but now, no such thing had happened. Right now, he still had all three, so if there was any moment to use a Command Seal, this was it.

"Win, Saber," he commanded. On his hand, the first Command Seal glowed and vanished. Saber blinked at him, astonished and speechless. "Don't let the mud touch you."

The second Command Seal glowed, too, then vanished the same as the first.

Like that, in two sentences, Saber extended beyond the reach of a Servant and touched upon the strength and power of a true Heroic Spirit. All of her abilities would be augmented so long as she strove to follow those commands, so long as she agreed with the spirit of those two orders.

The power of Command Seals was close to that of True Magic. With them, Servants could perform feats that defied their natural limits. An order to dodge could allow them to dodge otherwise sure-hit attacks. An order to come forth bent time and space to allow the Servant to appear at their Master's side in an instant. An order to die could force even the most willful of Servants to commit suicide.

In the past, that first time through the Grail War, Shirou had used his Command Seals to bring Saber to his side, to force her not to use her Noble Phantasm, and to allow her the power to use her Excalibur one more time than she should have been able to. That was the power of the Command Seals.

An order to win would not guarantee victory, but it would boost her abilities to a level where that didn't matter. As long as she followed those commands, they would support her and grant her an increase to her powers that put all but the likes of Heracles to shame. Like this, Saber would be untouchable by all but the most fearsome of Servants.

The surprise melted into a cool, calm determination, and Shirou was no longer looking at the Servant Saber, but at the hero King Arthur, the perfect king who had lost only when betrayed by Mordred, who had repelled every enemy to land upon her shores until that fateful battle on the hill of Camlann.

"Very well," she said regally. "Yes, if you are willing to go so far, Shirou, then it is only natural that I should respond in kind. As you promised me at the beginning of this War, I now promise you: I will not be overcome, Shirou. I will defeat Kotomine Kirei and rescue Ilyasviel."

She said it as though it were a fact, as though the outcome had already been decided and nothing else could happen. Her posture was confidence and determination; there wasn't even the slightest trace of doubt or worry, simply stone cold resolve. Any other possibility had been rejected. Now, it was simply a matter of proving it to the world.

It filled Shirou, too, a contagious courage that shredded everything else. She would win. _He_ would win. The Grail would be destroyed, Ilysaviel would be saved, and Kotomine and Gilgamesh would be defeated. From this point forward, all other possibilities had been rejected.

With that, there was nothing else for them to say. There was nothing else that needed to be said. Shirou turned back towards the gate and, together with Saber, started climbing the stairs again.

There was no need to worry, no cause for concern. They would win. They had two Last Phantasms, two Divine Constructs, two swords of peerless quality. How could they lose?

The air grew thicker and headier the further up the mountain they went, and as they approached the gate, the buzzing in Shirou's chest that had filled him several times before started up again, a low, steadily climbing hum. It grew louder they closer they got to the gate, and as they took those last few steps to enter the courtyard, it howled at him a word — no, not even a word, but the impression of a word, the closest approximation an inhuman tongue could come to actually speaking.

"Unnatural," it said. As he laid eyes upon Gilgamesh, the golden King of Heroes, it cried, "Unnatural."

And immediately following it, a hissed command: "Destroy it."

With that buzzing in his chest, Shirou crossed the threshold and entered the Temple courtyard, bathed in the red light of the Grail's corruption. Unlike before, unlike that last time, there was no reluctance in his feet, no hesitance. From the moment he had destroyed the church, he had known that there was only one path he could take, and so he knew that there was no going back, that there was no retreating from what must be done.

Last time, Shirou had selfishly wanted to save Saber. This time, he knew that he could not.

"So, you've finally come," Gilgamesh, bathed in the blood-red light of the tainted Grail, spoke as though he were not standing amongst the oppressive air of All the World's Evils trying to claw its way out of its prison. "I've been waiting for you, Saber."

It boggled the mind. How could he stand there, unaffected by the corruption of the black mud? How could he stand there and not feel _something_? Shirou had stood in this air before, breathed it, been smothered by the mud, and there was no shame for him to admit that even he felt like facing it was a bad decision, that every instinct in his body was screaming at him to turn around.

But Gilgamesh didn't seem affected.

"I assure you, our fight will not go as it did the last time," he said arrogantly. "This time, I am prepared to defeat you, despite the tricks your mongrel Master may employ. Rejoice, Saber. The time is at hand for the Holy Grail to appear, and I shall take special care to ensure that you are still intact enough to enjoy the fruits of this curse."

He gestured to the air around them. "This is the contents of the Holy Grail, Saber. This is the miracle you wished for, the Third Element that allows us Servants to return to this world in corporeal form. This is the very curse that you bathed me in ten years ago, and I shall take a great pleasure in shoving it down your throat once your Master is out of the way."

Shirou scowled and stepped forward.

"Shirou…"

"Go, Saber," he said to her strongly. "I've got this. You take care of Ilya."

There was a moment of pause.

"Of course, Shirou."

Her sabatons clanked as she rushed away and towards the back of the Temple, and Gilgamesh followed her with his eyes, but strangely, didn't stop her. Shirou had expected a token attack, at least, perhaps even Gilgamesh forbidding her from leaving before their fight could be concluded, but no such thing happened.

"So it seems you intend to face me by yourself, Faker," Gilgamesh mused haughtily.

"That's right," Shirou said. "Saber is going to rescue Ilya. This fight is between you and me, Gilgamesh."

"Ha!" Gilgamesh huffed a laugh. "I see you are not entirely hopeless, magus! It was indeed a wise choice to send Saber after that fake priest — and if I were to be honest, I prefer it this way, as well. You and I have a score to settle, Faker. Between your sword and mine, there can only be one that is strongest."

He lifted a hand and the air behind him rippled as Noble Phantasms appeared from within the Gate of Babylon.

"Unnatural," the buzzing howled in Shirou's ears. "_Unnatural._"

"But let's play for a little bit, first," Gilgamesh smiled cruelly. "There'll be plenty of time for our final competition, so how about we compare our treasuries before that? Gate —"

Shirou's Magic Circuits flipped on and he grasped at a number of swords equal to the Noble Phantasms behind Gilgamesh. One, two, four, eight, sixteen.

"Trace…"

"— of Babylon."

"_On_!"

Thirty-two swords flew through the air — sixteen from Shirou, sixteen from Gilgamesh — and clashed, sending sparks of ignited Prana dancing as they ricocheted off each other. Sixteen for sixteen — as soon as it had started, it was over, and Shirou exhaled slowly.

Gilgamesh hummed.

"Not bad," he said, unfazed. "It seems your technique is a bit better than I first estimated. But can you handle _this_?"

The number doubled, and thirty-two Noble Phantasms appeared from within the Gate of Babylon. Shirou grunted and reached into the hill again — in the air behind him, thirty two Noble Phantasms, all identical to the ones Gilgamesh was displaying now, sprang into being.

"_Unnatural._"

The swords shot forth again and clashed once again — there were sixty-four in total. The sound of steel against steel rang out across the mountain top, and every which way, weapons flew as they deflected off of the enemy's. Gilgamesh's treasures all embedded into the courtyard and stayed there, but Shirou's shattered and dissipated because they were only collections of Prana shaped and empowered by Shirou's magic.

Then, it stopped — the rain of Noble Phantasms ended. Gilgamesh laughed loudly.

_Unnatural._

"Very good!" he crowed. "Yes, your technique is definitely worthy of being compared to that Archer! But in the end, imitations are still imitations, so it is only natural that they falter when confronted with the original!"

_Destroy it_.

The buzzing erupted. Shirou's head felt fuzzy and hot, but his thoughts ran clear — there was no use in playing, in fighting Gilgamesh on his terms. There was no point in wasting time like that, not when the Grail was still there, not when the Grail still needed to be destroyed.

_Destroy it._

There was no time to waste on Gilgamesh. He needed to go, and _now_. There was only that single purpose — destroying the — _UNNATURAL_ — Grail and the — _UNNATURAL_ — Servant in front of him.

Yes, in the first place, Servants were beings who should not exist.

_Destroy it._

Shirou unsheathed Escalvatine. Across from him, Gilgamesh arched an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he mocked. "Are you done playing already, Faker?"

_DestroyitDestroyitDestroyit —_

"But I'm afraid I don't intend to show you my greatest treasure again this soon," Gilgamesh said haughtily. "So I'll simply drown you beneath my treasures, lowlife!"

Behind him, the Gate of Babylon opened wide and released an innumerable amount of Noble Phantasms — literally, every second, another one appeared, so trying to count them or put a number to them was a fruitless endeavor.

_DESTROY IT._

It didn't matter, anyway. There was no need to be concerned about the treasures floating in the sky behind Gilgamesh; in the end, there was only one thing ▅▅▅▅▅▅ needed to worry about. There was only one thing ▅▅▅▅▅▅ needed to do. Those Noble Phantasms were simply flies to be swatted from the air, nuisances that could only harm him if he let them.

But it would be an inconvenience to be struck by them. ▅▅▅▅▅▅ needed time to charge his sword.

A new set of Magic Circuits activated, a set independent of the original, sending a wellspring of Prana spiraling through ▅▅▅▅▅▅'s body. The left hand reached out as though to grasp an invisible ball.

STRUCTURAL DATABASE DETECTED.  
>ACCESSING…<p>

STRUCTURAL DATABASE ACCESSED.

"Survive _this_!"

USER INPUT ACTIVATED.  
>ADMINISTRATOR RIGHTS DETECTED.<br>PROCESSING…

The torrent of virtually endless Noble Phantasms rained down towards ▅▅▅▅▅▅, but ▅▅▅▅▅▅ paid it no mind. The hand outstretched twisted as the fingers danced along an invisible keyboard.

SAVING EDITS…

EDITS SAVED.

Just as the torrent of Noble Phantasms would have reached ▅▅▅▅▅▅, ▅▅▅▅▅▅ was surrounded by a column of densely packed air — a localized tornado that utilized redirection to stop the wave of Gilgamesh's treasures rather than blocking them outright.

"WHAT?"

Escalvatine glowed — from the newly awakened Circuits, Prana flowed down into the sword and filled it up. In moments, as the twister sent Gilgamesh's treasures scattering about over the courtyard, it had drank its fill and was fully charged. ▅▅▅▅▅▅ lifted his arms and hefted the sword of his head.

In a single stroke, Gilgamesh and the tainted Grail would be destroyed. In a single stroke, the Unnaturalness would be purged. Gilgamesh, the Grail, the Vessel, and Saber would all be eliminated — all the unnatural things currently before him.

Even Saber.

_Even Saber._

The hands halted. The swing that had just begun stopped before it could start. ▅▅▅▅▅▅'s brow furrowed. If Escalvatine was unleashed now at full power, here in this place, then everything on the mountaintop would be annihilated — everything, including Ilya and Saber.

Including Saber.

_Saber_.

"_Shirou…I love you."_

A warmth burst to life in his chest and spread throughout his body, up and down his limbs, from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. The golden light of Utopia shone inside of him, and the machine that had replaced Emiya Shirou was replaced with Emiya Shirou.

The Prana that had built up inside of Escalvatine dissipated. The new Circuits switched off and fizzled out — there was no longer a need for them. Around him, the barrier of wind that had deflected Gilgamesh's Noble Phantasms sputtered and died.

Shirou let out a shaky breath as the hand holding Escalvatine dropped back down to his side.

Right then, he'd almost…

"Have you returned to yourself, lowlife?" Gilgamesh asked haughtily. Shirou looked up at him. "Hmph. To think someone like you would go so far as to contract yourself to _that_. How _ugly_."

"Shut up." The words were out of Shirou's mouth before he could think to censor them.

"Truly, that Archer was a worthier sort," Gilgamesh went on. "He might have been so pathetic as to contract himself as well, but at least he didn't contract himself to _that_. Though, I suppose it _is_ rather ironic — he chose one and you chose the other. His one redeeming quality was that he wasn't as foolish as _you_."

"Shut _up_."

Gilgamesh laughed. "There is the one thing you got right, however. You are far more powerful than he could have hoped to be. Well, even so, his choice was still far less pathetic than _yours_. At least Alaya's interests lie in humans — Gaia just wants them destroyed. It would be a _mercy_ to end your life here, before it forces you to be its attack dog."

Behind him, the Gate of Babylon glowed again, and more treasures appeared from within. Gilgamesh folded his arms and tilted his head back, looking down his nose at Shirou with a superior smirk.

"Be grateful, lowlife," he declared. "The King's mercy is not normally so easily granted, so stay still as I mercifully end your wretched life."

The Noble Phantasms shot forward like rockets, leaving streaking trails of golden light behind them as they flew. There would be no time to counter them as he had been, no time to pull an equal number of swords from the hill. No matter that they seemed slower now, or perhaps he was faster, he would still not have enough time to create a counter wave.

But there _was_ something he _could_ use.

His hand shot out as though to ward off the rain. Prana sprang through his Circuits. A blueprint appeared in Shirou's head — the object he was pulling from the hill.

"Rho Aias!"

The seven-petal shield, the conceptual weapon born from the legend of the ox-hide shield of Ajax the Greater, appeared in front of him and absorbed the rain. Each petal was as strong as a fortress wall, designed specifically to stop projectile weapons.

He could have used Avalon, the sheath still inside his body, but that was a trump card Gilgamesh didn't know he had. As long as it was a secret, it could be used without worry of Gilgamesh trying to counter it or preparing for it, to strike in the moments before Shirou could utilize is full power. A secret weapon is a last resort, to be used only when there was no other option, because allowing the enemy to see your secret weapon gave them a chance to figure out a way around it.

But Shirou now had three secret weapons, one of which Gilgamesh was aware of. There was still another trump card Shirou could yet use, and it was his best option, now. A clash between two Anti-World weapons would cause catastrophic damage to this mountaintop, because there would be no holding back now that they both knew of the other's most powerful trump card. If, however, the Sword of Rupture and the Sword of Rapture were to clash in a separate world, inside a Reality Marble, then the damage would be confined to that Reality Marble, and even then, it would only be temporary.

So that was why, as the first petal was destroyed and Shirou's body groaned as it, too, was damaged, Shirou opened his mouth and started his incantation.

"I am the bone of my sword. Steel is my body and fire is my blood."

The second petal was shredded and the muscles in Shirou's left arm were shredded — moments later, they were healed again as Avalon reversed the damage.

"I have created over a thousand blades."

The third petal was annihilated, and Shirou's left leg was mangled in response, only to heal again seconds later.

"Unaware of loss, nor aware of gain."

The fourth petal vanished — the tendons in Shirou's knees vanished with it and he buckled forward, stumbling, before Avalon healed him again and he regained his footing. Inside of him, the bubble of his distortion, his alien perception, came closer and closer to the surface.

"Never alone, striving for Utopia!"

The fifth petal was destroyed. Shirou's left arm snapped once as it broke, then again as it was reset. The Prana running through his Circuits doubled, then tripled, then quadrupled.

"There are no regrets. This is the only path!"

The sixth petal was shredded. Shirou grunted as his liver ruptured and blood filled his stomach, knowing that it was only temporary, that Avalon would heal it in a moment.

"My whole life was…Unlimited Blade Works!"

The seventh and final petal was destroyed, but at that moment, a ring of fire swept outwards and consumed the world. What was left behind was a desolate land, a barren hill containing nothing but a graveyard of swords. In the distance, dawn peaked over the horizon.

This was the Unlimited Blade Works. This was the alien perspective of Emiya Shirou, the nature of his identity as a person, the shape of his soul. Contained within was an unlimited number of weapons — swords, shields, hammers, axes, spears, mundane and supernatural, Mystic Codes and Noble Phantasms.

"A Reality Marble?" Gilgamesh sneered. "So, you _are_ a magus, after all. Do you intend to smother me with your pale imitations? You forget your place, lowlife! You may have every sword you or that Archer have ever seen in here, but contained within my Gate of Babylon is every treasure in the _world_!"

The Noble Phantasms from Gilgamesh's Gate of Babylon shot through the sky again, but the swords around them rose up and countered them. Shirou didn't bother to try reaching Gilgamesh — in the first place, that wasn't why he had activated the Blade Works to begin with.

"We're not here so I could smother you with this armory!" Shirou shouted. He brandished Escalvatine and lifted it above his head, filling it with Prana as swiftly as he could. Gilgamesh's eyes went wide. "We're here so I don't have to worry about destroying the mountain!"

"Shit!"

He threw himself backwards and reached into the Gate of Babylon, pulling from the veil of orange-gold light a twisted, circular sword — Ea, the Sword of Rupture, the Star of Creation that Split Heaven and Earth. The three sections started to spin, twisting the air and swirling wind about as it prepared to unleash its attack.

It was too fast.

Shirou wouldn't have time to finish charging; no, the timing wasn't good enough. Even if Shirou attacked first, as long as Gilgamesh unleashed Ea before being consumed, Escalvatine would be defeated. Gilgamesh wouldn't hold anything back, this time. Even Escalvatine couldn't stand up to Ea's full power.

But he had a Noble Phantasm that _could_.

"Enuma —!"

The swirling wind became a storm. Spirals of red twisted around the spinning sections of the sword. In a moment, coils of space-time would lash out as the sword was thrust forward, tearing the world apart, revealing "Truth."

"Trace, _on_!"

He didn't need to go through the eight steps. With this, he never did. He knew it better than he knew himself because his body had carried it around for ten years. He skipped all the processes of creation — the forging was flawless without them. It formed in all its glory as though his incantation itself had summoned it into being.

Yes, truly, this was —

"_Elish!_"

"Avalon!"

— his greatest treasure.

The sheath dissolved into light and formed a barrier around Shirou — it was not "defense," it was "removal." Rather than blocking with raw power, the barrier was instead a portal, a pathway to the paradise of the Fairies, and it functioned by removing the wielder from the real world and placing them within that paradise. So long as that barrier was active, the user was protected from any harm, any dirt or filth or attack.

The spiral of red washed over him, but passed him by untouched. The Truth that could carve apart the world, the attack that could rip apart sea, earth, and sky, was parted and washed past him as though he were some indestructible pillar. The hill around him, the Unlimited Blade Works, tore and shuddered as Rupture shook it from its moorings.

It would be close, Shirou knew. The Reality Marble was already starting to tear itself apart. He would have to attack at the very moment Ea finished, just before the Blade Works crumbled entirely.

Prana filled Escalvatine as the sky above began to rip and break. Swords shattered beneath the wave of space-time and dropped into the empty gorges gouged into the hill. The ground was rumbling and quaking like a lid about to pop off of a shaken soda bottle.

At last, the attack ended. Shirou stepped forward as the barrier protecting him fell, lifted his sword, with its glowing blade, above his head, and gripped it with two hands.

There was no time for Ea to attack again. There was no time of Gilgamesh to defend himself. Before anything else could happen, Shirou swung down Escalvatine and unleashed Rapture and Chaos. A wave of light and fire so dense that it could twist space-time rushed forward from the path of the blade, consuming everything in its way. The ground, the air, the swords, spears, and axes, they were all swallowed up beneath the wave of gold.

There was an inarticulate scream that Shirou just barely heard, but whatever Gilgamesh had shouted as his last words was drowned out by the whine of Rapture fusing space and time together, of Chaos being born beneath the heat of fire hotter than the sun.

In an instant, it was done. The attack finished, the golden light and flames winked and flickered out, and all that was left in its path was a tear gouged into the world. Where there had been land and sky, there was now only a gaping black void, a cleanly sheared rip in the Blade Works.

That seemed to be the final strain, the straw that broke the camel's back. With so many tears gouged into the Reality Marble, there was no way to keep it from falling to pieces — with a crack like thunder, a heavy shudder, and a brief flash of light, the Unlimited Blade Works vanished into thin air, dropping Shirou back in the courtyard in front of the Temple, alone. There was no sign of Gilgamesh but for a handful of swords that had never been returned to the Gate of Babylon. The nigh-impenetrable armor, the smug face, the overbearing air of arrogance and power — all gone. The golden figure of the King of Heroes had disappeared, swallowed up in a sea of gold light and fire.

That was how the Fifth Holy Grail War came to a close.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Saber did not remember much of how the lake looked before — understandable, since the only times she'd seen it had been in her dreams of Shirou's memories (where it looked much the same as it did now) and that night she'd spent under Caster's tender care (when she'd been rather distracted by the agony of Caster's spells and, after that, fighting Archer) — but she was sure that it had never been as disgusting as it was when she laid eyes on it.

No, that festering pool of misery, bubbling and boiling with the hatred and curses of All the World's Evil, could not have been its natural state.

The menacing void through which Angra Mainyu would crawl dribbled black ichor into the water and over the ground, killing the flora and suffocating even the soil. Endless curses spewed forth and killed everything they touched, and crucified before that void, held aloft by some sort of spell Kotomine Kirei had weaved together, was Ilyasviel, naked and unconscious.

And underneath it all, untouched and unbothered, Kirei stood, looking smug and satisfied by the ooze gathering around his feet.

"Oh?" Kirei arched an eyebrow at her as she came to a stop some ten yards away from him. "So Emiya Shirou sent his Servant to handle this fight instead of coming himself? Does that mean he intends to somehow hold off Gilgamesh until you can finish me? Surely he isn't _that_ foolish."

"Shirou's decision was simply the wisest course of action," Saber found herself saying. "If there is a person alive capable of defeating the King of Heroes, the only person I could think would qualify is Shirou. It is only natural, then, that he would ask me to rescue Ilyasviel while he defeats Gilgamesh."

Kirei laughed — laughed, as though he weren't about to face a Servant that could tear him apart as easily as breathing.

"Are you so certain, Servant of the Sword?" Kirei mocked. "Gilgamesh is no ordinary hero, after all. He is simply the best, the original hero. All others _pale_ in comparison. And you think a simple human with his pathetic ideals, borrowed from a man who was broken by them, is capable of standing up to that kind of foe?"

"If you had but paid attention, Kotomine Kirei, then you would truly understand that my Master's skillset is uniquely suited to fight an enemy such as that," Saber spat back. "Your folly was in using a hero as great as Cúchulainn as fodder — perhaps if you had treated him as more than just an attack dog, you would have realized that his first foe and your last enemy were of the same cloth."

After seeing so much of Archer's skills and seeing Shirou's, too, it would be impossible not to notice similarities. Everyone who had had the chance to compare them could only have concluded that they were the same, or at the very least, very similar. It had been impossible not to see, knowing what Shirou's dream was, that he and Archer were simply different versions of the same person.

"Perhaps so," Kirei conceded silkily. "But tell me, Saber, do you truly have no wish for the Grail? Have you forsaken the very reason why you were summoned into this world?"

Saber's grip on her sword tightened.

"I have no use," she said frigidly, "for that monstrosity! No, if the Holy Grail is that sort of thing, then it could not have granted my wish in the first place!"

"Oh?" Kirei laughed. "So you've truly given up, then? You would sacrifice your wish, that dream that brought you here to begin with, so easily?"

Saber breathed out.

"It was a tragedy," she said, thinking back to what Shirou had once told her. Once, he had said it to her in the church's basement, and he had said much the same again when they were searching for Rider. The first time, she had seen only in her dreams, and the second, she had lived through. "Those things happened, those people died. But regretting those events, trying to change those things that occurred, would trample upon the meaning given to those who suffered and died. If I were to wish that those events never happened, then for what did those people die? Why did they suffer?"

She pointed her sword at Kirei. "I cannot regret what happened. In that case, I have no need of this Holy Grail. I already have everything I want."

"How boring," Kirei sneered. "Do you mean to tell me, Saber, that you have nothing to wish for? There is nothing in your heart that yearns? You have nothing you regret, no desire that burns within you?"

Saber refused to flinch, because in spite of her pride, in spite of her dignity, there _was_ something that she wanted. There _was_ something that she desired. In spite of what she had said, she did indeed have something she wanted and could not have. There was one wish that she still possessed, but it was a selfish wish, the wish of the girl Arturia and not the King, Arthur.

That was why she denied it. Saber had always chosen duty, and so she would again choose duty. This path she had embarked on had to be fulfilled, and so Saber, as the proud King of Knights, would fulfill her duty and return to that hill. It was a denial of King Arthur to do anything less.

"No," she declared stolidly.

"Your mouth says so, but your heart betrays you, King of Knights," Kirei mocked. He gestured broadly with his arms. "You cannot lie to a priest. I, who have glimpsed the contents of this Grail, am not so easily fooled as you fool yourself. You have a wish, Saber, and if you would but speak it, the Grail would be yours."

"I have no wish that this Grail could grant," Saber replied coldly. "Nor do I have any wish that I would _want_ it to grant. You waste your breath, Kotomine Kirei."

"Perhaps so," he acknowledged with a secretive little smile. "Or perhaps it was simply a matter of distracting you, Servant Saber, while all of the preparations were made."

Saber's instinct blared at her and she ducked down as a black tentacle swooped over her where her head had just been. She threw herself backwards six yards and skidded to a halt in the dirt — Kirei was suddenly surrounded by a forest of tentacles made of the cursed mud of All the World's Evils.

"This mud is the contents of the Holy Grail," Kirei said grandiosely. "Ten years ago, you destroyed the Grail and poured this mud all over Gilgamesh. As a peerless Heroic Spirit, he managed to maintain his natural personality and gained a flesh and blood body, but I wonder if _you_ could say the same? Shall we find out?"

The tentacles all rippled as though anticipating it, but didn't attack — she was too far out of their range for them to attack her without leaving Kotomine open to attack. The moment she closed in to finish the fight, they would strike and lash out at her, hoping to soak her in the curses of All the World's Evils and taint her with their darkness.

Foolish. Against a human being, these would be a challenge, but for a Servant, especially one like her who was receiving a boost from the two Command Seals Shirou had used earlier, they were pitifully slow.

Saber kicked off the ground and sped forward towards Kirei. The moment she began to move, the tentacles of black mud burst into motion and lashed out at her, but it was as she had estimated — they were too slow. Against a human, yes, it would have been a difficult run, but Saber was a Servant, and more than that, she was a Servant classed "most excellent."

She ducked beneath the first without losing an iota of her momentum, then leapt over the second, hovering in the air for a moment before her feet landed back on the ground. She swerved away from the fourth and pushed off the earth to do an acrobatic sideways flip over the fifth.

To an outsider, it must have looked like she was dancing, the way she easily avoided the black sludge that wanted so badly to corrupt her. The way she flipped and ducked and dodged and weaved was worthy of any professional performance — no, more than that, the speed and finesse with which she did it all was _beyond_ human.

This was the ability of the Heroic Spirits.

The tentacles whipped at her and Kotomine Kirei had resorted to throwing great globs of mud at her unharmed, as though he were somehow immune to the curses that spilled down around him, but despite his efforts, she still dodged them so easily. The sheer numbers leveled her way made it difficult to go forward, if only because she had to adjust her direction to dodge them all, but still she made it forward. It was only natural. A Servant was a thing beyond human capabilities.

As she ducked under the last tentacle and swerved around the final ball of mud, Kotomine scowled and took a step backwards as though to prepare himself to fight her, but it didn't make a difference. It didn't make a difference even when his right arm glowed with Command Seals and he used them to boost his abilities — she dodged easily around his fists, angled her sword expertly, and thrust Excalibur home between his ribs and neatly into his heart.

For a human, such precision would have been nearly impossible.

For a Servant, it was child's play.

Kirei's hands moved reflexively to his wound, then changed course halfway to reach for her neck as if to strangle her, but Saber pushed away from his grasp, planted her left sabaton in his stomach, and kicked him backwards. He slid off of her sword easily and went tumbling away to land helplessly in the boiling lake.

That was the end of the empty man known as Kotomine Kirei.

Saber dismissed her sword — turned it back into Spirit Form, as all Servants did their weapons when not using them — and allowed herself to relax. Around her, without Kirei to command them, the black mud tentacles had fallen limply to the ground like puppets with their strings cut.

With Kirei gone, all magic that he had maintained fell apart at the seams, including the spell that bound Ilya up in front of the black void. Her arms fell as though they had been released from their bindings and her body fell slowly, gently back towards the ground, wafting down like a feather in the breeze.

Saber dismissed her armor, maneuvered herself beneath Ilya's falling body, and caught her carefully in her arms — she had only the passing thought that Ilya was also naked, but the part of that fact that concerned Saber more was that she would be cold (it _was_ Winter, after all), and on top of everything else that had to have happened to this girl, getting sick because she was naked outside in February would just be terrible.

Saber shifted Ilya around in her arms and did her best to keep her warm, then patiently waited for Shirou.

There was no doubt, after all. Shirou would win.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

There was no trace of Kotomine Kirei as Shirou came upon the once-pristine lake behind the Temple. The black void still hung in the sky, the tainted mud still fell down like great globs of rain, and the water still boiled from the curses dribbling down into it, but of the fake priest who would see the world burn, who wanted nothing more than to watch all of mankind shrivel underneath All the World's Evils, there was no sign.

The lake itself no longer possessed its former splendor. Now, it was only a cesspit of maliciousness, a roiling, bubbling puddle of hatred and malevolence dyed a sickly orange. The grass and flowers that had grown around it had all wilted and died, and the earth itself was stained a deep, heartless black.

Saber stood beneath all of these things unperturbed, a naked Ilya held gently in her arms, waiting patiently for him as he crossed the distance. As he approached her, Shirou shucked off his outer coat and laid it out across his arms. Carefully, like a mother handing over her child, Saber set Ilya down on the inside of his coat and wrapped her up.

Ilya was still feverish. Shirou could feel it even through his coat, the incredible heat that would have turned an ordinary human's innards into mush. His brow furrowed; if she was left like that for too much longer, then she wouldn't make it down the mountainside, let alone all the way back to the house.

"Trace…on."

Saber said nothing as Avalon formed in the air, a copy of the sheath that granted King Arthur immortality. Shirou carefully maneuvered Ilya around in his arms and pressed the sheath against her. For a moment, nothing happened — Shirou didn't really know what he was doing, anyway, but Kiritsugu had done it, hadn't he, so it couldn't be too hard — then Saber put her hand over his and the sheath dissolved into little motes of light that soaked into Ilya's body.

It would only last a handful of minutes, but even that could make quite a bit of difference.

Now, there was only one thing left to do.

Shirou turned and walked a few steps back, set Ilya down, then turned back around again to face Saber. He fingered the hilt of his sword, now sheathed back in its scabbard, and considered what must happen next. The casting of his Reality Marble had cut deeply into his Od, activating Escalvatine even more so. Unless he stood there and waited for a while, he wouldn't have enough energy to make any difference right now, so it would be up to Saber.

It was up to Saber to destroy the Grail.

So, this was it, then. This was the end. Their journey was over. All the other Servants and all the other Masters had been defeated. Every obstacle but one had been removed from their path. Now, there was only the one thing left which had to be done, the one thing which remained for them to do, and once they had, Saber would leave.

She would leave, and he would be alone.

Even if he had never said it aloud, Shirou had long since acknowledged that she was the most important person in his life. There was nothing in him that could replace her — no sword, no shield, no Glory or Salvation, no ideal that was as magnificent as she was. All other treasures paled in comparison.

It was she, after all, who sat upon the throne of his soul.

In the silence, Saber moved. She turned away from him and towards the black void in the sky, and in a flash, she held her brilliant sword, Excalibur.

"I will destroy the Grail," she said strongly.

Shirou could only stare at her back, upright and firm, confident, resigned, resolved. This was the figure he had come to love, the proud King of Knights who didn't back down, who chased that ever-distant dream. Several things vied for control of his mouth, for the right to slip past his lips and into the air, but in the end, nothing came. There were so many things he wanted to say, but ultimately, he said nothing.

He wanted to ask her to stay. He wanted to tell her that she didn't have to go back to that hill and die, that she could stay in this time and start over from this moment, that she could live with him without worrying about the shackles of duty. He wanted to ask her not to leave, not to say goodbye on this hill as though it was the last time they would see each other. He wanted to ask her not to go, to scream and beg her to stay here with him.

But asking her to do such a thing was stepping on her pride. This was the girl, Arturia, who grasped that destined sword and became a king, who charged headlong into battle so that she couldn't regret anything in her final moments and so that she could believe that her path, the path she had chosen, was the right one. Everything else, including her own life, had been sacrificed so that she could be a king.

That was her pride as a knight and as a king. To ask her to stay, to beg her not to leave, stepped on that pride, tarnished the deeds that she had done and the great things she had accomplished. Loving Saber meant that he was not allowed to do that. He was not allowed to step on her pride.

The request hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he refused to speak it. He was forbidden that one thing, that one thing that he was not allowed to do. To speak that request would be to do that one forbidden thing, and he had already known that the War would end with this scene.

Saber was strong, firm, and resolved, so Shirou, as her partner, could not be anything less.

"Shirou," her soft voice broke him from his thoughts, "I want to hear you say it."

He lifted his left hand, stared at the spot that, underneath his glove, held his final Command Seal.

"Saber," he said solemnly, "destroy the Grail."

The final Command was given. The glow was muted by his glove, but despite the fact that he couldn't see it, Shirou knew from the burning in his hand that his final Command Seal had been activated.

Saber stepped out onto the water and lifted her sword. Excalibur flared gold, filled with light, filled to the brim with the prayers of all mankind, and she swung down. The bullet of light and Prana equal in strength to a god's magic cleaved apart the sky, cleaved apart the black void, and engulfed everything in front of her in a brilliant golden glow.

Nothing remained behind. The mountain had been obliterated and became a flat field. In the distance, beyond them, beyond everything else, dawn peaked over the horizon. The sky above was glowing with warmth and golden light shone across the land.

This was the end.

"This is it," her voice said gently. Her figure, the strong figure that he had fallen in love with, faced away from him and towards the dawn.

"Yeah," he found himself saying. "It's over."

"Yes," she agreed. "I fulfilled my promise and you yours. Together, we defeated out enemies and protected this town."

"You were amazing," he breathed. His heart was screaming at him to go to her, to hold her tight and never let go.

But he could not. He was forbidden that one thing.

"I suppose," she began softly, "in the end, there was one thing…"

She turned around and looked at him, and the expression on her face was one of the most open, most sincere that he had ever seen on her.

"Shirou," she said, "I know that I cannot stay, that I must return, but…some part of me wishes I could stay here and live out the rest of my life with you."

Time seemed to stop. Shirou's heart froze in his chest. He couldn't breathe. This was exactly what he had done, the exact same mistake he had made. The Grail was not gone, not nearly, so saying anything that could be construed as a wish would —

"I wish I could live here with you, Shirou, as a human being," Saber continued, heedless of the mistake she was making. "But I know that I — Shirou?"

But Shirou had stopped listening, and a helpless dread was pooling in his belly. This was what had happened last time — Shirou had accidentally made a wish on the Grail, and the Grail had flung him back in time. It hadn't been his intention, it hadn't been on purpose; all it had taken was a single sentence that could be interpreted as a wish, no matter how twisted.

"No…"

Except it was Saber who had made a wish this time.

The Grail cursed living people, cursed them so powerfully that it could kill just like that, but spiritual entities like Servants were not alive, so instead of being cursed, they were corrupted. Gilgamesh had been bathed in that tainted mud, but Gilgamesh had a special kind of ego that had let him walk away none the worse for wear.

Saber was strong, but even she wouldn't be able to survive it unchanged.

"Saber!"

His feet started forward before he could even think about what he was doing, about what he _could_ do against All the World's Evils, but even with his new speed, he wasn't fast enough. The mud struck her first, enveloping her like a blanket, consuming her before she could react, before she could scream or shout, before she even realized she was in danger. It bubbled down, shrinking, shrinking, slowly absorbing into the earth like rain water, and taking Saber with it.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Awareness returned to her slowly, dregs of consciousness that pulled her from her sleep and into the waking world. Her eyelids felt so very _heavy_, and there was a half-numbed throb that persisted in her side. Her muscles ached as they had not for the two weeks she had spent with Shirou and the further two she had spent with Kiritsugu before that. Her body was sluggish and slow, slower than she had become used to.

What…?

The last thing she could recall was the horrified expression on Shirou's face as he hurried towards her, the feel of the thick mud as it smothered her beneath a sea of black. Yes, she had just destroyed the Holy Grail, had she not? She had just expressed the girl Arturia's wish to stay with him, to start over from that point and live with Shirou for the rest of her life, so why…?

No, more importantly than that, _where_ was she?

"Please endure until then," a familiar voice pleaded with forced calm. "I shall certainly bring our troops here."

Yes, she recognized that voice. It was the voice of a loyal knight, a man who had stood by her as King Arthur, when she had ruled Britain. It was the voice of a dear friend and comrade who had been her guard. How could she not know it? Certainly, that voice belonged to —

"…Bedivere."

The footsteps that had started away froze and turned back. Saber mustered her strength and forced her eyes to open. Her heavy eyelids fluttered, but the best she could manage was to open them halfway, and she felt so very tired. Before her stood Bedivere, unharmed but sweating from exertion — the last of what remained of her loyal knights.

"Your majesty!" Bedivere cried. "Have you regained consciousness?"

Saber sighed.

"Yes," she said faintly. She thought of Shirou, whom she had just left, and how so like a dream it all seemed now — a wonderful, blessed dream that she would not have minded having again. "I was dreaming, just now."

"Dreaming?" Bedivere asked. He sounded confused and uncertain, but Saber paid it no mind.

She hummed.

"Yes," she said. "I have not had many dreams, so I feel it was a valuable experience."

"…That is great," Bedivere said at length. "Then, please be at ease and rest, Your Majesty. Return to your dream. I shall go and gather the troops in that time."

"Ah." The thought jolted Saber, and inside of her, the girl Arturia felt excitement. "Do you mean to say, Bedivere, that I shall see the same dream again if I close my eyes once more?"

"Y-yes!" Bedivere stuttered hurriedly. "That is, if you strongly desire it so, you may continue the same dream. I know it so, Your Majesty, for I have experienced it myself."

"I see. You are very knowledgeable, Bedivere."

Saber wanted to smile, but could not find the strength to do even that. All the energy that yet remained in her was dedicated to what still needed to be done.

Yes, what still needed to be done.

"Bedivere," she commanded softly, "take my sword. Pass through this forest and over the bloodstained hill. Beyond that, there is a deep lake. Throw my sword into that lake."

"Your highness!" Bedivere cried. "That is —!"

"Go," Saber said as strongly as she could manage. "Once you have carried out my order, return to me and tell me what you saw."

Reluctantly, Bedivere grasped Excalibur and ran off as quickly as his legs would carry him. Saber sighed and sagged against the bark of the tree she had been laid against. Time seemed to drag on, a long, slow stretch into eternity. By and by, the wound in her side felt less and less painful, and it seemed for a moment that she would slip back into sleep when Bedivere returned, panting and sweating.

"Is it done, Bedivere?" Saber asked. "Tell me, what did you see? What did you hear?"

"I saw the ripple washing in the reeds and hear the water lapping at the crag," Bedivere reported breathlessly.

Saber sighed. "You betray yourself, Bedivere. If you had done as I commanded, certainly you would have seen a surer sign. Go, Bedivere. Quickly. Watch and bring me word of what you saw."

Again, Bedivere turned and hurried away with all haste and again, Saber allowed herself to wander. She lamented the fact that she had not been able to finish her goodbye to Shirou, that something had interrupted her. There was so much more she had wanted to say, so many more feelings inside of her that she had wanted to express to him. The wound in her side was all but numb, and she had started to doze again when Bedivere returned the second time.

"Have you done it, Bedivere?" Saber asked again. "Tell me, what was it you saw? What was it you heard?"

"Your Majesty," Bedivere began, "I saw the waves lap upon the shore and heard the wind skim across the lake."

Again, Saber sighed.

"Twice now, you betray me," she told her knight. "Bedivere, I ask you, go. Go and fulfill this command, then return and tell me what it is you saw."

There was a moment of pause, but for the third time, Bedivere turned away and left as swiftly as his legs would carry him. Again, Saber relaxed back into the bark and allowed herself to drift. This was the end, she knew. She did not have much strength left. This would be her last command as King Arthur.

The sun had risen by the time Bedivere had returned again, and golden sunlight streamed down through the tree branches over Saber face, pleasantly warm.

"Is it done, Bedivere?" Saber asked the third time.

"I have returned your sword to the Lady of the Lake, Your Majesty," Bedivere breathed sorrowfully.

"I see." Saber sighed and let go of the remaining strength she had tethered herself to the world with. "Yes, you should be proud, Bedivere, to have fulfilled this command for your king."

Her heavy eyelids were finally allowed to close and the weariness she had been fighting off returned full strength. It would not be long. The last of her vitality was seeping away, so slowly…

"I am sorry, Bedivere," she murmured. "It seems that this sleep will be a…long…"

Her lips continued to move, but nothing came out. The world seemed to be falling away around her, and she thought, if this was dying, then it was not nearly so bad.

"Are you watching, King Arthur?" Bedivere's voice asked, but it sounded so very distant and far away. "The continuation of your dream…?"

The last of Saber's breath left her, one final exhale, and as everything else vanished, as she spiraled back and down into something infinitely large and endless, she said the name of her most cherished person.

"Shirou…"

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

Within seconds, it was over, and by the time Shirou had crossed the fifteen feet that separated them, the black mud had already retreated into the grass, leaving behind only a body.

"Saber!"

He fell to his knees beside her — and she was there, whole, alive, a living person, but just barely. He lifted her up and into his arms, her back propped against his legs as sweat that hadn't been there a moment before plastered her hair to her forehead. The Grail, he thought frantically. It must have given her a flesh and blood body, but how…?

"Shirou…" she whispered weakly.

He realized only then that she was bleeding, that there was a nasty wound in her side that could only be fatal, and he was no good at healing magic, he wasn't Rin, there was no way he could save her —

Avalon.

"Damn it!"

He reached into himself, reached for that golden light, and pulled it free. He didn't know much about this — in all the stuff he'd read, all the stuff that Rin had given him in those books those so very many days ago, pulling an object out of someone like this was never covered in any depth, so he was winging it.

That didn't seem to matter, because it worked anyway. In a flash, he held Avalon, the sheath, the artifact said to grant King Arthur immortality, and the moment he did, he pressed it into her arms, hoping, praying, that that was all it took.

This must be her real body, he thought distantly. The Grail must have taken her body from the hill and brought it forward in time, which was why she was injured. This was the wound Mordred had inflicted. This was the wound that history had said had ended King Arthur's life.

Saber breathed out a sigh, and for a moment, Shirou feared the worst, but the wound in her side was closing, that dreadfully fatal wound was beginning to disappear, and her chest rose and fell gently. She had just fallen asleep.

The relief that filled him…Shirou was not ashamed to admit that his eyes had started to water.

But there was no time for that.

The ground beneath them suddenly began to rumble and shake. The earth that had been scorched by Excalibur cracked and broke as something, _something_, pushed up against the remnants of the mountain.

Angra Mainyu, Shirou realized. In order for the Grail to be born, a wish had to be made.

And a wish had just been made.

From the ground beneath the void that Saber had just destroyed, black mud burst out, reaching towards the sky. The golden dawn was blotted out as the aura of All the World's Evils filled the air like the rancid scent of a rotting carcass. The taint, the overflowing curses that spewed forth without end, rained down upon the land as droplets of black, killing anything it touched.

At the center of it all, the beginning and ending for all of these things, a towering figure made of black mud had risen up from the ground. A broken crown adorned its head, and its entire body bulged with sickly purple tar. There were no arms or legs, only a vaguely cone-shaped body bloated with hate, hate, _hate_, filled to the brim with every evil mankind had ever committed, and four gigantic eyes arrayed in the shape of a triangle.

_Rape_.

_Murder._

_Castration._

_Genocide._

_Fratricide._

_Patricide._

_Matricide._

_Sodomy._

_Tyranny._

_Exile._

_Execution._

_Torture._

_Sadism._

_Arson._

_Theft._

_Fraud._

_The starting penalty is five._

The influence could already be felt. Angra Mainyu had stepped into the world, was cursing everything it could touch, and would, if left on its own, kill every living thing it could. It would start with Fuyuki, then expand to Japan, then to the rest of Asia, then Europe, Africa, and the Americas. Mankind would be annihilated — no, a Counter Guardian would be sent, first, in order to stop the cascade of destruction, but not before the death toll reached millions, not before the cost became steeper than Shirou was willing to pay.

No single death was an acceptable loss.

Shirou set Saber down gently, and as he stood, his Circuits flipped on and the energy he had lost fighting Gilgamesh was suddenly replenished. Twin voices were hissing in his ears, telling him that he needed to destroy this thing, that he needed to reduce it to ash before it could move on and cause more damage.

He did not need them to tell him so.

Escalvatine came free from its sheath with a ring, blade aglow as he flooded it with the Prana that had just been returned to him. He ignored the mud falling all around him, ignored the curses that splattered the ground, and lifted his sword high above his head.

This was it. No chances could be taken. He had to strike one, final blow with all he had, or risk the safety of all mankind. It had to count. He had to _make it_ count.

He took one short step forward, let loose an inarticulate warcry, and swung his sword, the Sword of Rapture, down.

A torrent of gold light burst free. A wave of fire capable of reducing the entire world to ash came forth from the blade of his sword and ripped through the world, consuming what remained of the mountain and engulfing the entirety of Angra Mainyu. For an instant, there was only the blinding light of Rapture as it burned through everything in its path.

This was the attack that could compete with Ea. This was the power of the sword that had been forged by the transcendent god of war and sun, Belatu-Cadros, that could return the entire world to the state before the beginning. This was the power entrusted to Emiya Shirou to serve as protector of all things.

The light purified the land. Angra Mainyu's presence in the world was ripped away and annihilated, burned and burned until not even ashes remained. The curses that had rained down upon that flat field were wiped clean.

Salvation granted a Miracle.

Like that, it ended, and Angra Mainyu was gone.

Shirou let loose a relieved sigh as the last remnants of his attack faded into the sunrise. Behind him, Ilya remained, untouched and alive. Next to him, Saber slept peacefully, Avalon clutched to her chest like a lifeline.

It was over.

He almost wanted to laugh, just throw his head back and let out a loud, maddened cackle. He didn't know what to think, he didn't know what to feel; all he knew was that it was all over, that everyone had come back alive, and that he had gotten more than he had ever dreamed of.

Saber was here, alive, real, no longer a Servant but a warm, wonderful human being. The request he had dared not speak, the wish that had lived on in his heart, even though he denied it, had come true.

It all seemed so wonderful. It was all so impossibly amazing that he was half-tempted to pinch himself to see if he was dreaming.

It was over, and Saber was here.

It was _over_, and Saber was _here_.

Yes, Shirou decided, as long as she was with him from now on, he could be content. Whatever else came, whatever hardships he would have to face, having Saber there to face them with him made it all easier.

After all, that's what being in love was all about.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Lovers, bound together by **_**Fate**_**,  
>Joined together beneath the Dawn,<br>Contented, dreaming,  
>Knowing that it will never<br>**_**Stay Night**

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Good End**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Here you go, Good End. I still need to finish writing the Epilogues, so those'll be up when I'm finished with them, but other than that, this story is officially finished.**

**So, technically, Shirou shouldn't be able to use the Avalon-Barrier, only the super healing, but by the time my TMF, Gil, said to me, "James, Shirou can't do that," I was already too far in. Since I didn't want to ruin my awesome climactic final battle, I decided to handwave it.**

**In case it wasn't easy to pick up on, Saber made her "wish" because Kirei was a troll and made her doubt herself just a **_**little**_** bit. It wasn't much, but it was enough.**

**My favorite part of this chapter was actually the end, believe it or not.**

**So, I moved the last scene and put it smack dab in the middle of the scene before it (which is technically where it belongs). I still feel that it's a bit awkward like that, but I figured it'd be less confusing that way, too.**

**Review #750 Randomized winner: ElvenQueen18**

_**Love belongs to those who dream.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	18. Hope of Dawn

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Revenant Good: Hope of Dawn  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"Thanks for the food!"

With that hearty exclamation, everyone grabbed their plates and started eating. They didn't talk as they ate — of course not. There was an unspoken agreement that whenever Shirou cooked, it was disrespectful to his wonderful food to do something that would distract them from it, like talking.

Though he found the sentiment to be quite a compliment, Shirou also thought that it was ridiculously exaggerated.

Nonetheless, everyone dug in quite enthusiastically and wasted no time on any other pleasantries after the initial customary thanks spoken in anticipation of the meal. Shirou, by contrast, ate much more slowly and smiled as he looked around at everyone gathered at the table.

Fujimura Taiga, Fuji-nee as she insisted he call her, ate with her usual gusto, consuming everything her fingers grabbed (probably the plates and utensils, too, if she had not had as much practice as she had). It was amazing, he thought, that she still looked so young despite the fact that she was nearly thirty years old now.

Fuji-nee hadn't really changed since the Grail War — before, during, or after — which, naturally, meant she had thrown a fit once she realized that the "temporary boarders" who were only supposed to stay for a few weeks had become "permanent residents." Well, at least as far as the others were concerned, anyway. Fuji-nee liked Ilya too much to complain about _her_.

She still looked the same, either way, acted the same, and in every way he could think of, she hadn't changed. Well, he supposed it wasn't in her nature to change; Fuji-nee was the kind of person who would always be young at heart, no matter how much older she got. That was simply the way she was.

Next to Fuji-nee, Ilya ate with all of the grace of a princess, picking through her food as quickly as possible without ruining her poise and posture. Even though she tried to maintain her manners, however, when it came to her favorite food, even Ilya would abandon her propriety and decorum to eat as much as she could as quickly as she could.

Ilya hadn't changed, either, but that was only natural. Ilya was a homunculus who had been modified specifically for the Grail War, so even though she was older than she looked, physically, she was still only a ten-year-old. A curse, perhaps, and in some ways, it was sad, but Shirou was simply glad that she was still with them, that Rin's suggestion had worked and they hadn't lost her.

If her growth as a woman was the sacrifice that had to be made for her life as a human being, then Shirou was okay with that. Above all, the important fact was that Ilya was _alive_, that she hadn't died after the stress being the Vessel of the Grail had placed upon her body. Everything else was a secondary concern.

He did wonder, though, exactly how it was Fuji-nee rationalized the fact that Ilya hadn't grown at all since she had started staying with him.

Next to Ilya and across the table from Shirou sat Sakura, eating as sedately and gracefully as she always did. No matter what, that was how she always ate; slowly and purposefully, carefully clearing her plate before she even considered taking seconds. In that manner, Sakura hadn't changed at all.

Physically, however, she looked much different than she had in high school. The ribbon that had pinned up the left side of her hair had been removed and now held her dark locks in a low, simple ponytail. She'd grown a few inches and filled out a little more and tended to wear darker colors than she had before — she was now what Rin had once called "the picture of a Japanese beauty."

She was currently studying at University by day and working on the Matou family magic at night — the less _unsavory_ bits of it, at least. The last he had heard, Rin was making plans for getting the remaining worms out of her and turning what they could of the Matou Crest into a _proper_ Thaumaturgical Crest rather than the bastardized thing it was now, but what he understood of it all made it clear that it was a very _big_ project. It would probably take _years_.

Next to Sakura and across from Ilya sat Rin, who had also grown in the years it had been since the Grail War. Aside from growing just a little bit taller and a little more womanly, she now wore a black camisole underneath a dull red sweater with a very wide neck that hung off her shoulders, knee-high black socks, and a black skirt. She also wore her hair down — she'd stopped styling it into her trademark twin tails after graduating high school.

Rin spent most of her time either helping Sakura with the Matou Crest or researching about the Grail System so she could find out how to disassemble it, but as far as he knew, she'd had only marginal luck on both fronts. After all, her family only had accounts of what they knew about the Grail System, and even then, that was only stuff they'd gathered from experience rather than from having built it — when it came down to it, the Tousaka had only really contributed land.

Either way, she'd been talking about going to study at the Clock Tower for the better part of a year, now, so it was only a matter of time before she left for England. The only problem she had was finding a sponsor, and once she did, she'd be leaving for months at a time to study at the premiere magic academy in the world.

…or something like that. From what little he understood, Clock Tower was as much politics as it was learning.

Next to Rin and sitting at Shirou's right was Saber, eating the food piled in front of her as swiftly as she was gracefully. Saber hadn't really changed, either — well, not entirely. As a person, she remained the same as she had been when he first met her, the same gallant figure he had so deeply fallen in love with. That part of her, the part that mattered most, hadn't changed at all.

Physically, though, she'd come quite a ways since the Grail War. As King Arthur, her body had stopped aging in her mid-teens, first from Caliburn's curse of agelessness, and then again from Avalon's perfect healing. Here in this time, however, she had given Avalon back to him after everything had settled down and only accepted it back when they left town for…well, the simplest way to describe it would be to say that she went with him when he went traveling to follow his ideal.

So, all the time she spent in the Emiya house or in Fuyuki, she left Avalon with him, and since he hadn't done much traveling yet (Ilya was family, so he wasn't about to leave her alone and let her relapse), her body had continued growing from the point where it had stopped. Now, five years after the end of the Grail War, Saber had grown taller and more feminine, but not overly so.

She never mentioned it, but he could tell that it troubled her that she hadn't filled out as well as Rin and Sakura had. Not for her own sake, of course, and not simply because she was a woman, but as he suspected, because her exposure to modern society had also exposed her to the modern concepts of female attractiveness — moderate height (Saber had only grown two or three inches, at the most), curvy (Saber never neglected her practice, so she was still lean and wiry with slim, athletic muscle), and busty (in five years, Saber hadn't grown more than maybe a single cup size, but Shirou wasn't exactly an expert on that).

Compared to Rin, who had grown four inches, and Sakura, who had grown three, Saber was the shortest girl in the house, save Ilya. She was also the smallest, in every way. Yes, she had become a bit curvier over the years; yes, her face had become fuller and more mature; yes, the regal, majestic beauty she had possessed those five years ago had gotten only more striking, but she had not grown as much as Rin and Sakura had.

Well, Shirou didn't care either way. It wasn't about bust size or waist-to-hip ratio or anything like that, it was about the bond he shared with her, the wonderful, beautiful love that still filled his chest with warmth whenever he thought about it. He made sure to show her that whenever he could, whenever they happened to have the house to themselves while everyone else was out.

It was his duty, after all, as her partner, to remind her that all the busty, voluptuous women in the world meant nothing compared to her.

She'd taken to wearing her hair in a long braid rather than the braided bun she had first worn when he met her — especially since she was now a human being instead of a Servant, so her hair didn't automatically "reset" when she donned her armor (which she now had to do by hand) and she had to style it manually. He imagined that it was, as was Saber's manner, a practical decision rather than an emotional one — it was easier to tie it into a ponytail or braid it rather than manage that complicated bun that had been so iconic of her for the Grail War.

Either way, he decided that he liked it. It made her seem more…human.

"Is something wrong, Shirou?"

Her voice snapped him from his thoughts and he blinked as Saber's face, brow furrowed with concern, stared at him from his right.

"You have not touched your food for nearly five minutes," she explained. "Are you not feeling well?"

Shirou smiled and laughed a little.

"Oh no," he reassured her. "Nothing's wrong. I'm just…thinking about how far we've come in the last couple years."

Rin snorted.

"Getting nostalgic, Shirou?" she teased. "You didn't become an old man while I wasn't looking, did you?"

"Nee-san!" Sakura scolded.

"Nothing of the sort," Shirou retorted with a fake smile. "I was just thinking about how much you and Sakura have filled out since high school. You were so much smaller then, Rin. Maybe my cooking has spoiled you."

"Senpai!" Sakura gasped, scandalized.

Rin's face flushed and she snarled at him.

"Hang on, now!" she said. "Are you saying I've gained weight, Shirou?"

"You said it, not me," Shirou replied nonchalantly.

"You —!"

"Shirou!" Fuji-nee jumped in. "It's not polite to discuss a lady's weight! It's ungentlemanly!"

"Thank you, Fujimura-sensei."

"Even if she _has_ put on a few pounds."

"H-hey! I thought you were on _my_ side!"

"You must admit, Rin," Saber added, "that you _have _been eating more these past few years. As I recall, when you first started staying here, you didn't even eat breakfast, but now, you never miss it."

"Whose side are you on?" Rin hissed.

"Well, you _could_ just stop eating breakfast again," Ilya suggested succinctly. "There'll be more for me, that way."

Rin groaned.

"I can't help it," she groused. "Shirou's cooking is just too damned good."

Fuji-nee moaned sympathetically. "I know what you mean. Whenever he goes out on one of his business trips, it's like having your favorite restaurant closed down. I think the only reason I don't starve when he's away is because Sakura is here to cook when he's not."

"It should be registered as an illegal drug," Rin agreed. "A narcotic, probably. Cooking this good should be outlawed. He could rob a bank just by holding the tellers' taste buds for ransom."

"I _am_ right here, you know," Shirou reminded them.

Rin shoved her empty bowl in his direction.

"Shut up and give me some more rice," she demanded.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

The rest of the house was quiet as Shirou slipped silently into the room he shared with Saber — Fuji-nee had flipped out when she'd heard about that, but she'd backed down when he'd threatened her with no food for a week. He slowly and carefully shed his day clothes and put on a pair of pajamas — Saber had bought them for him a few years ago, with some help from Rin.

When he'd finished changing, he padded quietly across the room and gently lifted the covers up off the futon, then slid into bed next to Saber. She lifted her left arm up and he draped his own arm over her side, pulling her towards him as her arm came back down and her fingers intertwined with his.

Practiced efficiency.

It was only natural, after all. This was how they slept together whenever it was they got the chance, so it was only natural that they'd fallen into a sort of rhythm. Shirou rather enjoyed it — it made it feel like they were more of a normal couple, that for just a little while, they could forget about the world of monsters and magic and just enjoy each other's presence.

They laid like that for a while, alone together in companionable silence, basking in the warmth of the other's body. It was just…peace. It was a moment to enjoy the wonderful feelings that that swirled gently in his chest — love, belonging, contentedness.

Yes, his image of Avalon rested in his arms, living, breathing, running the pad of one calloused thumb across the back of his hand.

"Shirou," she started suddenly.

"Hm?" he hummed. "Is something wrong, Saber?"

"No," she reassured him quickly. "No, it's just…"

She fell silent again for a minute and he waited patiently for her to say what it was that bothered her. Saber was…Well, she wasn't really good with the emotional stuff. In all other things, she was a confident, powerful, gallant figure, the very same whose beauty had captivated him that first night, but when it came to the more emotional things, all of that confidence disappeared, and she became so very nervous and uncertain.

It was kind of cute.

Of course, she'd gotten much better at it over the past few years, but it still wasn't easy for her. He didn't mind — it was just how Saber was. No one could be good at _everything_.

"Shirou," she tried again, "are you…happy?"

Ah. _That_ kind of question. So _that_ was what had been bothering her.

He smiled and chuckled a little.

"What kind of question is _that_?" he asked.

"N-no," she stuttered, "i-it's not that I…I mean, I just wanted…"

"Of course I'm happy," Shirou told her confidently. "Everyone's alive, we're all here together, living so peacefully…and you're here. With me. I'm happy, Saber. Most of all, I'm happy because _you're_ happy."

Her grip on his hand tightened — if he were an ordinary human, he was certain that it would have hurt quite a bit, but his body was a bit sturdier than normal.

"Shirou," she murmured quietly, "could you…call me…?"

He smiled softly and pulled her closer, leaning his head down towards her shoulder. Into her ear, he whispered her request.

"I love you, Arturia."

She shivered in his arms and let out a pleased sigh.

"I love you, Shirou."

It had been five years since the Grail War, but this was it. This was truly the beginning, the first day of the rest of their lives.

It didn't matter whatever else came at them. Everything would be alright, because they would face it together, side by side, as they strove towards that ever-distant dream. It didn't matter how long it took; as long as they aimed for that distance, ignored the stumbles and roadblocks along the way, then someday…

Someday, they would reach that distant star.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Though we all continue forward,  
>Always sprouting,<br>Always growing,  
>Towards our futures,<br>Never slowing,  
>Our roots remain connected,<br>Our futures,  
>Intersected,<br>And our Fates,  
>Intertwined.<br>When you're family,  
>All paths lead to home.<strong>_

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**Good End — Close**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**Welcome to Good End. Of the three possible futures that sprang from this story, this is the best possible one. True is up next. I hope you enjoyed it.**

**I know I made Saber seem more human than some of you might be comfortable with, but without her duty as king and living in a modern world where the only thing left for her is to live her life however she pleases, it was inevitable that she would become more feminine and more like a modern woman. If you guys would remember, Saber has quite a few insecurities about herself as a woman, even in the anime and VN.**

**On another note, if Gilgamesh's rant last chapter wasn't enough to explain what, exactly, Shirou's contract with the Lady of the Lake entailed, then please say so, and I shall explain it to you. Or go to my forum, "The Creator's Room," and read the section on Miracle of Zero, which will have spoilers but also details on what, exactly, Shirou has become by the end of this story.**

_**Never alone, striving for Utopia.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


	19. Memoria

**Fate/Revenant Sword  
>By: <strong>James D. Fawkes

**Revenant True: Memoria  
>— o.0.O.O.0.o — <strong>

"So, that's really what happened?"

"Yes," Saber said. "The Grail was flawed. Despite their best efforts, they weren't able to recreate the system properly. The Servants summoned were only wraiths, not true Heroic Spirits."

"And for someone like you and Shirou, simple wraiths would've been relatively easy to take care of," Rin concluded. "Idiots. It took the Einzbern, the Matou, and help from a True Magician to make the Fuyuki Grail, and years in between that to charge it. Making a new one on their own was doomed to fail."

"As you say, Rin," Saber agreed. "Even still, it is fortunate that we were there. The situation could have worsened if we had left it on its own."

"Alright, that's enough of the official business. How have you held up, then? I meant to ask you years ago, but after all the cleanup following the War and catching up with school and everything, I just forgot. So…What's it like being human again?"

Saber took a long moment to ponder the answer.

"The powers I held as a Servant have long faded," she said finally. "In exchange, however, I possess all the powers I did as King of Britain. I may not have all the advantages of a Heroic Spirit, but I'm still not an ordinary woman."

"That's not what I meant," Rin said pointedly. "I mean, what's it like being human again? A living, breathing human being?"

Not, "What's it like not being a Servant anymore," but, "what's it like to be alive after being a Servant for so long?"

Saber hummed thoughtfully.

"It's…different," she admitted. "Things like sleep and food weren't necessary as a Servant, even if I indulged in them, and I hadn't needed to worry about everyday things involved with inhabiting a flesh and blood body. It feels…good."

No longer needing to worry about fighting in the Grail War, no longer needing to worry about using too much energy, no need to sleep to preserve energy, no longer needing to worry about fading away — it was refreshing to live like that. A Servant was a spiritual entity that required an anchor to exist in the world; being a human, free to live, free to enjoy life, free to simply _be_, was a good feeling.

Saber didn't regret the life she'd lived as King of Britain — after everything, after all she had learned from her time with Shirou, she couldn't regret it at all — but there was something so very freeing about having no obligations to weigh her down. Yes, Saber had always chosen duty over her own wants and needs, but this second chance a life, this second chance to set everything else aside and simply live with Shirou, she could not say it was something she would ever regret, either.

"And the sex?" Rin asked slyly. Saber felt her cheeks grow hot and heard the phone's plastics begin to creak and groan under her grip as her fingers tightened around the receiver.

Unbidden, images of her nighttime "adventures" with Shirou arose in her head. Her heart thudded and a shiver ghosted down her spine.

"I'm hanging up now!" she declared suddenly.

"Wait, wait! I'm sorry!" Rin's voice called desperately. "Don't hang up, yet!"

Saber sighed and forced her hand to relax.

"How's Shirou holding up?" Rin asked quietly. "Since Illya, I mean…"

Saber sighed again and turned her head to look into the kitchen, where Shirou was silently slicing ingredients up for dinner. There was just the slightest droop in his shoulders, invisible to all but those who knew him well.

"Her death was a heavy blow," Saber said softly. "I suppose I should have informed him of a homunculus's ultimate fate, but I could not think of an appropriate manner or method to broach the subject. And if I am honest, I had held out hopes that Illya's survival of the Fifth War was a sign of her longevity, but…"

"There's nothing you or he could have done," Rin said solemnly. "We miss her, and she did become a part of the family, but we can't work miracles, Saber. Illya was a homunculus. To give her true life is beyond any magecraft we could work. Those three extra years were a blessing, all things considered."

There was something that Rin wasn't saying — Saber had known her long enough to recognize that Rin was omitting something for some reason. She should probably ask, just to make sure. After all, Rin had a tendency to sugarcoat things where Shirou was concerned, and even with Saber, if she thought it was something important enough of depressing enough.

But she wouldn't ask. If Rin didn't want to say it, then Saber would respect her decision.

"I suppose you're right," Saber conceded.

"What about the Association? Have they been giving you any trouble?"

"Officially, the Association has no interest in Shirou and I," Saber said. "That does not stop some of the less scrupulous Magus families from trying to capture us for their own purposes."

The Archibald family, she thought they were called, had sent a number of assassins their way since the Grail had been dismantled. If she remembered right, their heir had been killed during the Fourth War by Kiritsugu (well, Maiya had shot him and Saber had finished him off, but it was on Kiritsugu's order, so the difference wasn't important), so their motivation was probably revenge. Those assassins had been handled swiftly and mercilessly.

That wasn't accounting for all of the wannabe magi who had wanted to capture them and dissect them for one reason or another. The numerous attempts that had been made on them had forced Shirou to learn how to make Bounded Fields to protect the house. Granted, they weren't on the level of a specialist, nor even Rin's, for that matter, but he was improving, and they were strong enough to do the job.

Rin snorted.

"The reason the Association doesn't bother you _officially_ is because they'd be stupid to try and cross the King of Knights and the King of Miracles at the same time," she said. "You may not be a Servant anymore, but Excalibur is a Noble Phantasm approaching the level of a Divine Spirit's thaumaturgy. Shirou's got his own Noble Phantasm, and he can create copies of others as the situation calls for it. Only the Association's most bullheaded members are arrogant enough to think they can take on one of you, let alone both at once."

"Yes, I suppose you have a point."

"Well, I've been doing what I can to keep them off your backs," Rin told her. "It hasn't been easy, but Waver's been really helpful in keeping you guys off the Association's radar. As long as you don't kick up too much of a fuss, then _officially_, the Association has no reason to pursue you."

"Officially," Saber agreed somewhat bitterly.

Just because the Association didn't bother them _officially_ didn't mean that they were left alone entirely. No, of course not, because that would be too easy.

"Yeah," Rin said. "Listen, I'll be back over there in about a week. Are you guys heading out again, or are you going to stay home for a while?"

"We'll be spending the next several months here," Saber replied. "I think Shirou is looking forward to a break from everything — a chance for us to be alone for a while. He doesn't say it, but I believe these last few weeks have been difficult on him."

Rin hummed an agreement. "Another Grail knockoff, right? I heard about that in the Association's grapevine. Were the Einzberns involved in this one?"

"No," Saber shook her head once before she remembered that Rin couldn't see it. "These imitators, however, came much closer than any of the others. I fear it is only a matter of time before another true Grail is built."

"That's much less likely than you think," Rin informed her. "The Fuyuki Grail had the backing of the Association — or at least their unofficial approval, at any rate — and was presided over by the Church. These knockoffs _aren't_, so they have to take place in secret where the Association doesn't have any influence."

"Which only makes them more dangerous," Saber disagreed. "The Fuyuki Holy Grail may have been tainted, but it was set up properly and performed its function mostly as intended. Without the backing of the Association and the expertise of the likes of the Einzbern, these imitations are more likely to suffer a catastrophic malfunction, which could endanger the lives of everyone in the vicinity of the Grail."

"All too true," Rin admitted easily. "That's why the Association feeds me as much information as they can find about these things, so that you and Shirou can go and do their job for them with minimal risks. Simply by doing what you do, you and Shirou have extended the life expectancy of an Association Enforcer by about ten years."

One of Saber's eyebrows lifted. "Oh?"

"Waver thought it was funny," Rin told her with a soft, short chuckle. She sighed. "Alright. I've got to get going, then. It might be late afternoon for you and Shirou, but it's only eight in the morning over here, so I've got to get back to my studies and stuff. Tell Shirou I said 'hello,' won't you?"

"Of course," Saber agreed. "Goodbye, Rin."

"Bye."

There was a click as Rin hung up, and Saber set the receiver back into the cradle.

A week, then, she thought as she turned away. She and Shirou had a week alone together before Rin came back. Until then…

Saber allowed herself a brief smile.

Until then, all they had to worry about was each other. They could be together and do as they pleased without worrying about interruptions.

She turned around and looked back into the kitchen, where Shirou was silently cooking dinner. The slump that she'd noticed in his shoulders earlier seemed only more pronounced now, but perhaps that was because it seemed all the more noticeable now that she wasn't half focused on her conversation with Rin.

She should do something, anything, to cheer him up.

Yes, she decided. She would cheer him up.

"Shirou," she declared strongly as she strode towards him.

Shirou stopped for a moment and looked back at her, eyes wide and questioning. She glanced down at his hands, which had stilled halfway through chopping up another carrot. That would be her method, she knew.

She had been meaning to learn, anyway. One day, _she_ would be the one cooking for _him_. Not every day, no, but she would change the dynamic from Sakura and Shirou cooking and insert her own slot into the lineup. She was no longer a king being waited on hand and foot, so she would no longer allow herself to stay around the house without contributing anything.

"Teach me," she said simply. She put all of the command of King Arthur behind it, and spoke it with all of the passion and affection of the girl, Arturia.

Shirou smiled, a small, real smile, and Saber couldn't help but smile, too.

"Sure."

It would not always be easy, she found herself thinking as Shirou taught her how to prepare that night's dinner, standing behind her, chest pressed against her back, his hands guiding hers. No, it would not always be easy. There would be deaths and hardships. They would lose friends and be betrayed. They would be injured and scorned, hated and loathed. People would reject them, reject Shirou's dream because they could not understand it, because they could not understand _him_.

But none of that mattered, because she was there. She would stand beside him, his sword, his shield, his sheath. She would protect him against the wear and tear, against the elements that yearned so badly to rust and destroy him. She would be with him, his partner, his other half, and she would walk with him down his path so that he need turn to no other.

As long as she stood beside him, she would help fulfill his dream, she would save him from that lonely fate, from dying upon a hill of swords, broken and lost.

Yes, as long as she stood with him, _there would be no regrets_, because _this was the only path_.

That beautiful image that they both cherished, that radiant dawn, together, they would find that Utopia.

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**To all things, there is a time,  
>A meaning, a purpose, a rhyme.<br>For love and for hate,  
>For Destiny and for <strong>_**Fate**_**,  
>For wrong and for right,<br>For words and for might.  
>That is why they never despair,<br>Their ideals, they never forswear.  
>Time marches on,<br>So there will come a dawn.  
>Even in a world of blight,<br>It can never always  
><strong>_**Stay Night**_**.**_

— o.0.O.O.0.o —

_**True End — Close**_

**Disclaimer: I don't own Fate/Stay Night.**

**This is the True End. This is the epilogue that closes the story, the real epilogue, that brings the curtain down on Fate/Revenant Sword. Thank you for sticking around long enough to get here.**

**The difference between the Good Epilogue and the True Epilogue is really just the matter of a single detail that sends ripples down the rest — when, exactly, Rin left for Clock Tower. In Good Epilogue, she stayed in Fuyuki with Shirou and Saber long enough to suggest using Avalon to heal Ilya whenever she started to deteriorate. In this one, Rin left almost immediately after high school, so she didn't have the chance to make that suggestion. The difference is five years — Rin stayed in Fuyuki for five years after high school in Good Epilogue; in this one, she didn't.**

_**In the end, it didn't matter. All we ever needed was each other.**_

**James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes  
><strong>_James Daniel Godric Alan Fawkes_**(Signature best viewed in **_**Wendy Medium**_** font style)**


End file.
